Forthwith
by Kaeari
Summary: Several ficlets written from prompts and inspiration. Mixed pairings, mixed ratings.
1. 1

Forthwith is a collection of drabbles given to me either by prompt or from my own imagination. I do mixed pairings, mixed ratings, and I'm completely open to further prompts. If you have an idea, drop it in a review or leave a message. I don't bite. :3

Pairings this chapter are all Wesker/Chris with one Chris/Wesker. They're all from myself this time around.

******Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Not a damn thing. I do this for fun, not profit. All creative rights to the characters and storyline belong to their original creators. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

Picking through the moderately-sized mass of valentines cards and boxes of chocolates, Chris picked up the whole pile and moved it off to the side to uncover his paperwork. Opening one of the boxes after reading the card (it was from Janice, the female officer that sometimes worked at the front desk), Chris chewed on the cherry-flavored chocolate and flipped through his papers.

A red spot on the sixth page caught his eye. The little paper heart, barely an inch wide, was flattened in between the pages, and as Chris picked it up, he realized that it was actually made with an accordion in mind, cut and folded several times to allow it to flatten and expand at will. It was obviously hand made.

Squishing the heart repeatedly between his fingers, Chris observed it until Wesker looked up sharply from his desk.

"Chris, get back to work." He ordered before continuing his own reports.

Chris muttered an affirmative before smirking. He'd let Wesker be a dick today; it was his birthday, after all.

* * *

Now, Chris wasn't usually against new forms of training and exercise. In fact, he loved to pick up tips so he could stay strong, lean, and limber. Physical exertion gave him quite a thrill, but...

"W-Wesker, isn't this a little m-much?" he choked out, hands clenched at his sides as the Captain pushed on Chris' knees until they touched his shoulders.

"It's good practice, isn't it?"

A grunt slipped out of Chris' mouth. "For what?"

Wesker smirked. "Didn't I tell you? We'll be doing warm-up stretches before we run laps for today's training session." He thrust hard and deep then, efficiently ridding Chris of any complaints he might have.

* * *

Chris' mouth was hot between his shoulder blades, tongue dragging a continuous, damp line along his vertebrae. He felt warm, feverish, and his heart was thumping loudly and in sync with the one behind him. It was almost impossible to breathe.

The younger man shifted more out of anxiousness than impatience and accidentally pressed against the spot that could draw the most unexpected reactions from his lover.

Hissing, Wesker arched his back and clawed at Chris' thighs until he stopped moving.

"I didn't say you could move, did I?" he bit out, earning a chuckle and a sharp nip to his shoulder.

"No, you didn't." Chris moved again, harder and with purpose this time, dragging a low, hoarse moan out of the blond.

* * *

Touching Wesker under the shower was remarkably like running his fingertips over hot silk. He had no dry skin, no flaws (save for a vaccination scar), and he absorbed as much heat in the water as Chris did in the sun.

Slipping his hands down along Wesker's sensitive sides to his hips, Chris drew the older man in for a long, leisurely kiss with the water trickling down between them.


	2. 2

This second batch of drabbles is all thanks to DaggerArcadia, Lemon-Sprinkles, and Lastglances, who all gave me prompts to work with. And from now on, I will be updating with a **minimum** of seven drabbles per chapter. Yes, you heard me. Having prompts come at me left, right, and center is helping _enormously_ with my creativity and diversity, so I hope everyone likes them because of my improvements!

Dagger's prompts were Rebecca in Billy's shirt, Chris and Rebecca with pinned wrists as the subject, a surprise for Dagger, and Billy sees his old dog tags again.

Lemon's prompt was Chris ripping Wesker's expensive shirt during sex.

Lastglances' prompts were angry Wesker/Chris sex, and an interpretation of a post-it note from her and Lemon's collaboration Post It Notes.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Not a damn thing. I do this for fun, not profit. All creative rights to the characters and storyline belong to their original creators. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

Fiddling with a Rubix cube, Billy walked into the bedroom with his head down, concentrating on the colorful box and twisting it every which way.

"Hey, Rebecca, could you show me how to do this again? I don't think I'm-" Nearly tripping over his own feet, Billy cut himself off at the sight of Rebecca stretching upwards, wearing nothing but his borrowed tank top.

Normally, he would've just thought she was cute and came up behind her to tickle her sides, but this time was different.

This time, the shirt rode up and exposed Rebecca's behind.

There were no panties.

"Hmm? Sure, just let me get dressed." Turning around, Rebecca gave him the sweetest smile before gasping in horror. "Billy! You're nose! It's bleeding!"

Letting her fret for a minute, Billy finally grabbed her and held her close, large hands going drifting downwards until her face burned red.

"Forget about it. Let's go back to bed..."

* * *

Having grown up with three older male cousins, Rebecca knew how and loved to wrestle. It wasn't something she did often, seeing as how everyone thought she was a fragile doll, but when Chris got playful, she couldn't resist a friendly fight on the floor.

"Oh, you wanna take on all this?" Chris boasted, puffing out his chest like he was all that and a bag of chips. Rebecca pushed him over and they rolled around until they nearly hit the coffee table, where Chris finally trapped her between his arms and legs. "Give up?" he asked when Rebecca panted.

Smirking, Rebecca shot him a look of mischief before tickling the spot on the top of his head. While Chris was busy squirming away from the sensation, she tipped him over and hopped up on his abdomen before he could react further, snatching his wrists up and pinning them above his head.

"Give up?" Rebecca taunted him, taking pleasure in the embarrassed flush in his cheeks.

* * *

Billy was a confident man. Confident, brave, and sure. Standing at the altar, he felt these feelings rush through him, and knew he could do this. He could marry Rebecca Chambers.

When the doors at the back opened and the music started playing, he turned to look upon his beautiful, beaming bride... and the man who was not her deceased father walking her down the aisle. One Christopher Redfield, to be precise.

The two men locked eyes for a moment, one pair determined and the other fearful. There was a silent exchange of words (threats of death and bodily harm) between them before Chris patted Rebecca on the back lightly as he hugged her.

Separating, Chris gave Billy a stern nod (it was returned bravely) and set Rebecca's hand in Billy's.

All the feelings returned, and did not leave him for days to come.

* * *

At her request, he undressed her from the bottom up, starting with her ankle-length socks and ending with the light sweater she sometimes wore in the summer. As his fingers slipped under the hem and started tugging upwards, he saw a strangely familiar flash of silver. It couldn't be...

Pulling the sweater over Rebecca's head, Billy let her toss it aside as he held his old dog tags in the palm of his hand.

"You kept them..." He muttered, turning them over slowly.

Giggling nervously, Rebecca nodded. "Well, yeah. It was the only thing that I had of you, besides my memories." She reached up to fiddle with the dangling length of chain. "I've never taken it off, except when I shower."

Billy smirked and kissed her slowly before lifting the chain off her neck. "I guess you don't need memories if you have me in the flesh, then."

The tags were tossed to the floor, forgotten with the rest of their clothing.

* * *

Chris had never in his life felt this way before.

It started with a slow burn deep in his gut as he kissed Wesker in their best clothes, but the further they progressed in the bedroom, the further the flame grew. In their haste, they removed only the most essential clothing. His body was practically burning as he lowered himself onto Wesker, a satisfying stretch accompanying the pleasure of being filled.

As the fire raged on, Chris moved harder, faster, clawing at Wesker's shirt-covered back until his nail snagged and took the silk shirt with it. Of course, he didn't notice it, not until Wesker's hips stopped undulating and the blond man looked him right in the eye.

"You do realize how much this shirt costs, don't you...?"

With an eyebrow raised, voice dark, and eyes boring deep into his own, Chris didn't listen to a word he said as he raced towards completion, tipping over the edge as Wesker gripped him by the collar.

"You owe me. A lot."

* * *

They were both stressed beyond their limits, fighting down the urge to scream at each other in Chris' small apartment. Every word, every action aggravated them further, and after a nasty comment about the way he was treating his team, Wesker finally snapped.

Thrown against the counter, Chris struggled as Wesker ripped his jeans down, jerked his own fly open, and pushed inside after just spit and a thin finger for preparation. He hated this, hated it so much that he loved it more than he should, but with Wesker's fingers pressing into his hips, the hard, rhythmic thrusting, and mouth sucking at the slowly forming bruises on his back, he wanted more than just this.

They didn't last long, not at the rate they were going and their current volatile states, and Chris slumped against the counter with Wesker having to peel himself off of his sticky, sweaty lover. When he moved to fetch them both something to clean up, Chris grabbed his arm and yanked him back against his chest as fingers circled his nipples lightly. One hand moved lower with promises of more as it stroked across his navel.

"What would you say to switching?"

* * *

There was a limit to how much control Wesker gave Chris, low enough that Wesker was comfortable and high enough that Chris was normally satisfied with what he got.

_Normally._

Trying not to strangle the man between his legs, Wesker clutched at the pillow behind his head and watched as Chris put his limits to the test, holding the blond's right leg over his shoulder as he followed the dark ivy pattern of the lace stockings with his lips. He wouldn't usually feel this unnerved, but the dark blue eyes watching his face without even glancing down at the job at hand was making Wesker fidget ever so slightly.

Continuing his trek upwards, Chris nipped along the sturdier hem line and ran his hand down Wesker's other thigh, only to glide back up to push the impossibly short skirt out of the way. A muscle twitched under his mouth, and grinning up at Wesker, he licked a slow, hot line at the edge of the lace, eliciting a chocked moan and an arched back.

They both forgot how to breathe.


	3. 3

The third batch is done and fresh off the press! The first one came straight out of my imagination, and probably should have stayed there, but the rest are from DaggerArcadia! Our conversations apparently lead to the most random shit ever, but perfect material for drabbles! I also highly recommend checking out her drabbles, because they are to DIE for and sometimes pair up with mine, story-wise. Like pimps and hookers. No joke.

The prompts were, in order that they appear, hooker!Wesker, pimp!Billy, warming up in a pool, the first time Rebecca sees Billy naked, a pink tutu, club dancing (part 1), and my opinion on what Billy and Rebecca would do while stuck in traffic.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Not a damn thing. I do this for fun, not profit. All creative rights to the characters and storyline belong to their original creators. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

"Wow..." Chris drew out the word as he walked in circles around his Captain, admiring the polished leather boots that scaled nearly all the way up Wesker's legs until they wrapped around his thighs perfectly. There was about an inch of skin showing before the matching leather miniskirt concealed the rest. "Damn, you pull those off."

"Unlike yourself." Wesker gestured to the discarded boots on the floor and the skimpy skirt next to them. "I'm disappointed that you haven't given them a proper chance."

Chris snorted. "And I can't believe you wore yours."

"I keep my promises." Steadily walking to up Chris, he pulled his lips back in a smirk as his younger lover grabbed eagerly for his leather-clad ass. It was tricky, but they managed to wrap Wesker's leg around Chris' waist despite the now six inch height difference. He rubbed his fingers under Chris' chin. "And if you breathe a word of this to _anyone_, or ever insinuate that I'm a woman, you'll find four inch stilettos in places they shouldn't be."

Gulping, Chris attempted to distract the blond with kisses to his neck, fiddling with the strings on the modified corset. "As long as I don't have to pay you, I won't tell a soul."

* * *

The navy suit felt cool against his body as he adjusted it, the silk shirt underneath shimmering in the lamplight. His favorite girl, all dressed up in her red leather, came up behind him and placed a delicate hand on his.

"I'll see you later, then?" she asked, her lips painted a dark, solid red.

Billy nodded and gave her a light push in the direction of the street. "Tell Carlos to knock it off with the cowboy act. I didn't hire him to scare off my customers."

Turning away, he pushed his glasses further up his nose and walked the other way, intending to meet his zebra-print rival.

He wasn't looking forward to it, not with that man's explosive attitude.

* * *

Chris' teeth couldn't stop chattering as he shook underneath the surface of the pool. With his hair wet and plastered to his head, he felt the cold outdoor breeze waft over him again and sending him into another bout of shivers.

He looked over at Wesker, still steadily swimming up and down the length of the pool, before bouncing himself over with his toes. Catching Wesker as he swam past, Chris held him close to his body to absorb what little heat he could.

"Don't tell me you're getting cold already?" There was a teasing tone in the blond's voice that made Chris nip at his ear.

"I'm not cold, I'm just..." Grinning slyly, he pushed down his shivers in favor of pulling Wesker over to the walls of the pool, pinning him as he hiked the Captain's legs up until Wesker got the message and held them there by himself, "...horny."

* * *

Dropping her towel and change of clothes on the toilet seat, Rebecca undressed quickly, untangling the MP3 from her shirt as it blasted the last half of her favorite song in her ears. Pulling her pants and underwear off, she let the song finish as she slid the shower door open.

And screamed.

Doing a 180, Rebecca held her hands to her chest as Billy dropped the bar of soap in shock, jaw slack as he stared openly in both alarm and admiration.

"I-I'm sorry..." Rebecca muttered, yanking her earphones out and reaching back blindly for her clothes. A large hand grabbed her, instead, and yanked her into the shower against a warm, firm, and wet body.

"You don't have to be."

* * *

"You suck."

"Be glad I'm not making you wear it at work."

Wesker was too amused by the outcome of their little bet to see who hold their breath the longest, having won by just over thirty seconds more. The fact that he had stripped away almost all of Chris' masculinity was more than satisfying, but seeing his lean, tanned body in the form-fitting tutu wasn't a bad sight, either.

Shoving the pink puff down as far as he could, Chris shifted uncomfortably and made a face. "How long are you going to make me wear this? I've got a wedgie like you wouldn't believe..."

The corners of Wesker's mouth twitched upwards.

* * *

Rebecca dug her heels into the tiled floor, looking back longingly at her empty seat. "Billy, I can't dance! I was having just as much fun watching from over there..."

Billy was having none of it, determinedly dragging her out to the dance floor behind him. Picking her up, he swung her around and placed her back down, a pout on her glossed lips. "Don't be like that, Princess. I'll show you how."

Spinning her a few times to get her smiling again, Billy adjusted so that her arms looped around his neck and his hands were on her hips.

Rebecca desperately tried not to think about how close they were, hoping that Billy couldn't feel her racing heartbeat or see the flush on her cheeks.

* * *

Hunched forward with his forehead pressed to the wheel, Billy drummed his hands on either side of the seat as he looked out the car windows. They hadn't moved for almost fifteen minutes, and it looked like it was going to be longer. He'd already turned the car off to save gas, much like the other cars around him.

"Rebecca, I'm bored." he complained, tilting his head to look at his girlfriend. She was asleep, slumped towards him and looking completely out of it.

Grinning mischievously, Billy quietly unbuckled his seat belt and leaned over pressed butterfly kisses to Rebecca's lips, tickling her bare shoulder with his fingers. She squirmed in her sleep and Billy turned the little pecks into a more appropriate kiss, smiling against her mouth as she slowly woke up. A small hand wound its way into his hair, keeping him right where he was.

A car horn blared, and they both jumped and had the grace to blush as the line started moving. An angry driver from behind them sent them a dirty look as he passed.

Billy looked sheepish. "Oops?"


	4. 4

This a special chapter of Forthwith, in honor of Valentine's day, and I've taken the opportunity to write fluff and nothing else for them. Please note that the JeanxRodrigo and AlbertxChristopher drabbles are in lastglances Lacuna universe, and AlbertxChris is from my Consort universe. Consort will be posted as soon as it's finished, so be on the lookout!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Not a damn thing. I do this for fun, not profit. All creative rights to the characters and storyline belong to their original creators. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

There was an exception to every rule, Wesker decided, and Chris had bullied his way into being that exception.

They both lay in their pajama bottoms under the covers of Wesker's bed, propped up by the decorative pillows and the ones they used to sleep on, with the last two slices of lemon meringue pie set between them. Chris had bought it especially for his birthday, though he couldn't do anything about the pink dye that had been mixed in with the fluffy topping. He normally wouldn't have allowed any kind of food in his bed, but Chris proved himself to be a surprisingly clean eater, so he bent the rules so the other man could enjoy himself.

Wesker was barely listening while Chris talked about their workplace, absentmindedly cutting the pie with his fork as he watched the brunet's facial expressions flit from cheerful to amused to slightly annoyed. It was baffling just imagining the range of emotions Chris could feel so strongly.

When the slice of pie grew small enough that he had to look down to scoop it onto the fork, Wesker was struck with the sight of a bite-sized, heart-shaped piece of lemon meringue. Apparently, his mind should not be left to wander by itself, lest it betray him and possess his hand to carve hearts out of his food.

"Wesker? You listening?" Chris asked, brows furrowing as he turned his head to look at the Captain.

Quickly cutting the heart into symmetrical pieces with his fork to destroy the 'evidence', Wesker picked up half and shoved it into Chris' mouth before the other man could protest.

"Stop talking." He muttered, and leaned in to lick the sweet and sour gel off Chris' bottom lip as he swallowed.

* * *

"Miss Valentine!"

"Hmm?" Turning around, Jill was delighted to see Josh Stone jogging to catch up to her. He looked much better in casual clothes, rather than the combat gear that she usually saw him in. A wide grin was spread across his face.

When he reached her, Josh leaned against the wall. "So, Miss Valentine, I happened to look at the calendar this afternoon, and I discovered that tomorrow is a very important day."

Jill smirked. "Oh, really?"

"Yes. Valentine's Day, in fact," Nodding quickly, he continued. "And I figured a beautiful lady like you could maybe use a little company?" Josh sounded hopeful, shooting her a suddenly shy smile.

She pretended to think about it for a few moments, already knowing how she was going to answer. "Well, I have a few meetings I need to attend, and then Chris wanted to take me out for dinner..."

At the mention of Chris, Josh's shoulder's sagged, "Oh, I see..."

Thinking he'd had enough teasing, Jill laughed. "I'm kidding, Josh! I'd love to!"

"Really?"

"My shift ends at five. Don't make a girl wait." Winking, Jill resumed her trek down to the office and put a subtle swing in the movement of her hips.

* * *

He's in the city when he first sees Jean, standing there in his fine white coat and stoic features. His Papa disappears into a store and Christopher stays outside with him, scratching his his neck and behind his ears where he really likes it.

But _no_, Rodrigo will _not_ be distracted by the fingers sent from heaven. Instead, he will be distracted by the studly white figure that was Jean the French Bulldog.

Barking excitedly, Rodrigo hops up and down to get his human's attention, and when the man looks down at him, he glances suggestively at the other dog until Christopher smiles and says something to him in what his Papa calls English. He barks and Christopher obeys like a good human, but he ends up bounding ahead excitably.

When they reach the handsome stray, Rodrigo trots up to him and sits patiently, wagging his stub of a tail. They both sniff each other briefly before his human steps in to look for a collar on the dog.

"I am Rodrigo," he says, tongue lolling out, "and this is my human, Kristoper." He knows that's not his name, but it is hard to say aloud.

The white dog looks disinterested, but grumbles out, "Jean."

Christopher pulls his hands away and Rodrigo's Papa comes out to join them again. They start discussing something while Rodrigo stares adoringly at the seemingly emotionless bulldog, and finally his Papa kneels down to pet Jean.

Rodrigo only knows a few human words, but when he hears, "...take him home..." he spins circles around Christopher and his Papa until he gets dizzy.

* * *

There was snow in goddamned February. He couldn't believe it.

Cinching the scarf tighter around his neck, Christopher shivered and ducked his head as a chilly breeze swept down the street, shoving his right hand into his pocket while his left twined with Albert's right. He could see the other man smirk from his peripheral vision, making him duck further into his jacket.

He'd been the one to insist on going window shopping on Valentine's Day, very nearly dragging Albert and his sheet cocoon out of bed, and was spurred further on when he opened the shutters to see fat flakes of snow falling. As Christopher's excitement grew, Albert's dropped, but he couldn't resist the pleading looks the younger man shot him.

Christopher was just fine for the first fifteen minutes, but after a while, his running nose was getting too drippy to bear much longer. Fishing out a tissue from his jacket, he blew his nose again and tossed the flimsy paper into the next trash bin they passed.

The store next to them had a large window, taking the place of a wall so it could display its wares, so Christopher couldn't help but stop and stare at the fluffy golden bear in the window. There was a red ribbon around its neck, and a name tag that, when he looked closely, read 'Albert' in loopy, swirling letters.

"Did you want it?"

Blinking, Christopher looked back at his own Albert before shaking his head and smiling. "You always have to buy me something, don't you?" Tightening his grip on Albert's false hand, even though the man couldn't feel it, he tugged him along until thoughts of the bear were banished from his mind.

When Christopher woke up the next day, he saw not his lover, but Albert the bear staring back at him with shoe button eyes.

* * *

Checking the time of his watch, Billy paced anxiously in front of a rather fancy restaurant, dress shoes clacking against the pavement. Rebecca was fifteen minutes late for their reservation, and after talking to the manager, Billy had convinced him to give him an extra half hour for her to arrive.

His mind and heart argued inside his head, thinking that she had stood him up, but knowing that she'd never do that to anyone, least of all to Billy. Paranoia was seeping into his thoughts constantly, leading him to where he was now; pacing.

"Billy!"

Looking up sharply, Billy spotted his date strutting carefully down the cobblestone path, waving a delicate hand to get his attention. She'd donned a dark red cocktail dress, simple and elegant, and complemented it with black strapped pumps and a black handbag at her side.

Billy was suddenly very glad he'd scrounged up every penny he could find for this dinner.

When she was close enough, he swept her into an embrace and kissed her cheek, admiring her smile up close. "I thought you'd never be here," he admitted.

Rebecca giggled. "I was just held up at the hospital, that's all. I wouldn't miss this for the world."

Sighing in relief, Billy held out an arm for her to take, standing straight like a gentleman, "Well, then, we'd better go inside before we _do_ miss our reservation."

* * *

Leaning with his back against a pillar, Chris plucked at his cream robes and gazed out at the town below, arm resting on his knee as he sunbathed. He'd woken quite early that morning, only to find that Albert had woken even earlier and was absent from their bed. When he went to the main hall to ask a servant, he learned that the prince had left for the market and would not be back until late afternoon.

Albert had never given him any specific duties to attend to other than being at his beck and call, so Chris had wandered the corridors aimlessly for the better part of the morning. The servants needed no help with their chores, the horses in the stables were fed, watered, and brushed, and the hawks in the aviary were well tended to. Nothing needed to be done.

Yawning, Chris arched his neck and stretched upwards, cracking his back in several places. As he started to relax back, a hand caught his arm and turned him around to face the Prince, still wearing the dark shawl around his shoulders with the hood down. They locked eyes for a moment in greeting before Albert brought a gold band, about three inches long, out from his robes and clasped it around Chris' forearm.

The metal was soft and pliable after being freshly molded, glinting in the light, but he had a feeling it would conform to his arm by the time it fully hardened. It was a simple design, decorated only by the Prince's personal insignia had been stamped clearly into the outside surface. Gold was no rarity for royalty, but Chris was still shocked that Albert had given him such a piece.

Albert cut him off when he opened his mouth to ask anything, "You've been garnering attention from some of the guests in the palace." he explained, allowing Chris to take his arm back, "I don't usually like to make a spectacle of things, and I certainly don't enjoy sharing. Not after what happened with..." Trailing off, he waved it off and urged Chris to get up.

The consort glanced at the band. "I don't know how to thank you..."

"Perfect. Because I do." At Chris' curious look, Albert gave him the look that only meant one thing, and the brunet rolled his eyes and let himself be pulled along.

The Prince was insatiable.

* * *

Brad cradled his cup of punch in both hands as he watched his co-workers mingle around the ballroom, paid for by the friendlier members of the RPD council. They'd done a great job with decorating and arrangements, and Brad had to say that he was impressed. The blaring pink and theme of Valentine's Day wasn't over done, and was toned down to a more elegant red and white affair.

As he looked around, Brad spotted his fellow STARS members scattered about the room, peppering it in small groups. Over to his right, Rebecca had engaged Richard and an unfamiliar dark-haired man – possibly her date – in casual conversation. Forest and Joseph were at the back, presumably flirting with a trio of uninterested ladies, and the rest of Bravo team were with their dates, dancing in the center of the room. Chris and Wesker had packed themselves in a corner far to his left, the Captain looking terribly bored as the marksman attempted to talk him into dancing. And Jill...

"Hey, Brad." The voice behind him made Brad jump a little, but he grinned as Jill took a seat beside him, looking stunning in her short teal dress and scarf. "What are you doing here, sitting by yourself?"

Brad shrugged and took another swig of his punch. "I _was_ hanging with Forest and Joseph, but..." He gestured to the pair and Jill nodded in understanding.

"Can you do me a favor, then?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Dance with me? I haven't really danced at all tonight. I was with Chris until he started talking to Wesker. And you look bored, so..." Jill sent a hopeful glance his way, and who was Brad to deny such a beautiful woman?

Brad drank the last of his punch and let Jill guide him onto the dance floor, arms automatically going to her hand and waist. They danced in tune with the waltz playing from the stereo, Jill letting out a pleased exclamation when he dipped her expertly.

"My god, you're a much better partner than Chris was." She giggled, waving innocently at Chris when he looked at her.

Laughing with her, Brad brought her back up, and together they danced until they were the only pair left on the floor.


	5. 5

Oh lord, it's been too long since I've did these. I don't even remember who promted what, but I _do_ know that most of them were prompted by DaggerArcadia and lastglances. I'm also giving a shoutout to them, because they're awesome and their drabbles rock my world. But the prompts were Wesker and Chris dancing, Wesker and Chris on the chase, Wesker and Chris in the subway, Pirate!Billy and Princess!Rebecca, Pirate!Wesker and Kidnapped!Chris (also being turned into a oneshot, see my profile for details), Chris and Wesker with a mirror (challenge with lastglances, who did WeskerxChris. I did ChrisxWesker), and Princess!Rebecca and Knight!Billy.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Not a damn thing. I do this for fun, not profit. All creative rights to the characters and storyline belong to their original creators. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

Wesker felt entirely uncomfortable standing in the middle of the dance floor, scowling as Chris danced away, carefree as always.

"Come on, Captain, live a little!" Dancing smooth circles around Wesker, Chris got up close and into his personal bubble before turning, pressing them back-to-chest. "Please?"

Frowning, Wesker made a sort of groan before he slowly began to sway from side to side, satisfying Chris for the moment.

The brunet contentedly ground back, humming an approval when Wesker's hips started gyrating against his ass. "See? It's not so hard to dance, is it?"

"Who says I'm dancing?" Biting the tanned neck in front of him, Wesker held Chris' hips still as he pressed harder against him, one hand going to rub at the quickly forming bulge in Chris' jeans.

* * *

Chris wanted to cry. No, really. He wanted to go home and sob into his pillow like some girl in high school.

He'd been on a chase with Wesker, the robber darting about in the crowd and making difficult for either of them to catch up. To save time, Chris pulled a risky move and leaped over a fence to cut time.

It didn't work out that way.

He was now stuck on the top with the sharp wires of the fencing ripping several long holes in the seat of his pants while Wesker was off catching bad guys and saving the day. Chris was just glad he wasn't there to see this.

"My, my... what do we have here?"

A cold chill ran up Chris' spine, and he turned his head to see the Captain smirking in amusement, the robber caught in the back seat of the cruiser that Wesker brought around.

* * *

The barren subway car was air conditioned in the very back, but Chris could only feel the heat radiating off of Wesker and trapping itself under his sweater as he lifted a few inches off the length in his ass, only to slide back down and groan at the friction. The open zipper bit at the skin of his thighs and chafed until it was red and raw.

Wesker wasn't making it easy to stay quiet (there was no need to with no one around), jerking him off with short, quick strokes. His other hand had wormed itself up Chris' shirt to pinch a nipple while he sucked and licked at the spot just below his ear.

At the next stop, a teenaged girl came in and they both froze as she paid no attention to them and sat facing away, large headphones blasting music loud enough for the pair to hear it.

Chris felt panic start to rise up when Wesker started up their activities again. He opened his mouth to protest, but the hand in his shirt retreated and covered his mouth, stifling the loud moan that escaped him as Wesker put deliberate pressure on his prostate.

They kept it up for a few more stops until the girl left, and when the doors closed, Chris had to shout in both relief and release.

* * *

Billy hoisted the maiden over his shoulder, knocked out from the sleeping herbs in her tea, and scaled down a rope that led from the window to the garden outside. Blending with the shadows, he stealthily made his way down to the pier, safely reaching his ship without any delays.

The newer, more rowdy sailors he'd hired leered at the little lady, but Billy dismissed them with a sharp look. "_No one _touches her. Do you understand?" Satisfied with the silence and averted eyes, Billy brought the girl through his cabin and set her on the bed.

Stroking her hair, Billy knelt down to stare at her fluttering eyelids. "Come on, Princess, wake up."

"I told you not to call me 'princess'..." Blearily, the girl opened her eyes to the dim light of the lantern and to Billy's headband-clad face. "...And this is no way to treat a lady."

* * *

Chris struggled against the ropes binding his wrists behind his back, keeping his arms wrapped around the bottom of the staircase railing. The ocean breeze was cold, especially in his ratty shirt and cotton pants that were ripped beyond repair.

Heeled boots startled Chris out his miserable glare at the sailors staring at him, and he looked up only to stare into the pale face of the ship's Captain.

"I've been expecting your arrival." The man bent down to grab Chris by the chin, forcing his head left and right while inspecting his features. He looked pleased when the prisoner jerked his head out of the grasp and bared his teeth.

"What do you want from me? I've done nothing, I owe no debts...!"

"Be quiet."

The Captain spoke to another man briefly, keeping his eyes on Chris while they conversed. He drew a sword, steel flashing against the light of the sun and making Chris flinch, but only shoved him forward and cut the rope holding him down.

"I want you to work for me. Permanently."

* * *

The bed creaked underneath him with every thrust inside him, the cheap metal frame knocking against the full length mirror that spanned the entire wall. There were tiny cracks forming over his reflection, right where his fingers clenched tightly in the sheets.

It was entrancing, watching he and Chris fuck like they were in one of the bad pornos that Chris kept in his room.

Wesker tore his eyes away as Chris pried his legs further apart, a hand pushing down on his back until his chest touched the bed. With the new angle, his whole body burned when Chris struck his prostate harder and much more often.

It was almost too much, overwhelming him, but as they locked eyes in the mirror, neither of them could look away again.

* * *

Lifting the front of her dress out of the way, Princess Rebecca stepped nervously down the marble staircase, trying to smile as the people in the crowded room all turned their heads to stare openly. Waving shyly, she took each step one after the other until she reached the bottom.

A barrage of questions were thrown her way and she did her best to answer them all as quickly and politely as possible. After each question was answered, another two took its place, and it wasn't long before she was closed in by nobles offering her their older or, in some cases, _very young_ sons in marriage.

Before she could answer any more, an armored body moved in front of her, holding her to the side of a knight.

"Please forgive me, but the Princess is being called away for the night. Urgent business, you understand." Without another word, the knight led her away off to the door on their right, where a quiet hallway greeted them warmly.

Rebecca sighed. "Thank you. You didn't have to do that."

Turning, the knight smiled at her. "Of course I did, Dollface. It's my job."


	6. 6

Alright, this is where things start getting crazy. In this chapter, you'll be seeing the drabbles that inspired me to make Consort, and also a surprise pairing at the very end that was probably invented by DaggerArcadia and I. My prompts were a prince/slave relationship with Albert and Chris, Chris climbing a tree and Wesker's reaction (from Lemon Sprinkles), a second prince/slave with Albert and Chris, freckles with Wesker and Chris (from lastglances, taken from her Post It Note collab with Lemon), a foorball-turned-shoving-match with Billy, Rebecca, Chris, and Wesker (from Dagger, inspired by the superbowl), security cameras with Wesker and Chris (can't remember who prompted me), and a surprise (from Dagger).

Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Not a damn thing. I do this for fun, not profit. All creative rights to the characters and storyline belong to their original creators. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

There were such things as fairy tales, Chris decided as he lounged in the lavishly decorated bed of the Prince. He'd never dreamed that he'd end up working in the castle, serving as Prince Albert's personal attendant, and being a part of the Prince's rebellious 'affair'.

Chris was dubious about calling it an affair, as both husband and wife despised each other and only consummated their marriage enough to conceive a child, the single heir to the throne. It was only a matter of time before King Alexander passed on the title to Albert, and when that time came, Chris knew that the child would be born, the Queen would be leaving on frequent trips to her homeland, and Albert would be his for the taking. Permanently.

Thinking of dreams and fanciful illusions, Chris opened his arms in welcome as the Prince strode into the room, finding the younger man nude and innocent and incredibly appealing. Clothes were shed quickly and efficiently, and they both found comfort in the body of the other.

* * *

There was a difference between scared and startled. Wesker liked to think he was only startled. Chris thought otherwise.

After Chris stopped swinging from a tree branch by his knees and 'scaring the pants off him,' Wesker sent his lover a disapproving look as he remained hanging upside down.

"You're a fully grown police officer, Christopher, not a small child nor a monkey. Now act your age."

Pouting, Chris furrowed his brows but reached out and snagged a buckle on Wesker's tactical vest before dragging him closer. "What's wrong with being a monkey?" he asked, kissing the tip of the blond's nose before working his way down... or up. Chris was getting confused.

Wesker met his eager lips reluctantly, but couldn't resist the unique feel of kissing someone while they were upside down. The hands worrying over his jaw weren't unwelcome, either.

* * *

A feeling of euphoria washed over Chris like a warm wave, nearly drowning him as the Prince worshiped his body with long licks, hard sucks, and sharp bites. Nearly every inch of him had been claimed, riddled with bruises that no whip or beating could leave. He ached to do the same, but Albert would not allow him that freedom, shown by the golden chain that led from his wrists to the cherry wood headboard.

Writhing in place, Chris kept himself from crying out as a warm mouth consumed him, devastating his mind and body in its wake. Pale hands gently traced the lines of his abdomen to run under the translucent white cloth of his vest, soothing and working his body more than he thought he could take.

He opened his mouth to beg for more, but the silent plea went unheard as he was penetrated abruptly. His mind thought of nothing but the man who owned his body and eternal soul.

* * *

Pushing himself up onto his elbows, Chris watched with dark eyes as Wesker laid between his thighs, trailing butterfly kisses along the length of his leg. The flush on his chest was spreading and growing darker, goosebumps rising against his flesh from the chill in the air and the progress Wesker was making up his leg.

Wesker stopped for a moment, head tilting slightly in thought before he fingered the small patch of freckles he'd found the night before lightly. "See, Chris? You do have freckles."

When Chris adjusted himself to see better, he felt Wesker's tongue tracing invisible lines along the path of tiny spots until there was a damp, messy 'a' written on his left thigh. Another letter was licked onto his skin, causing him to shudder from the ticklish sensation.

"I don't think it's the the fact that you have freckles that you don't like..." Wesker breathed, warming the cooling saliva on Chris' thigh, "...but the fact that they spell out my initials."

* * *

Muscles straining in his arms, Chris dug his cleats into the turf below him and shoved against the smaller but equally strong body in front of him. He'd been roped into a 'football match' with Billy, but with only two players, it turned quite quickly into a shoving match. Chris would have been at his best if it hadn't been for the two hotdogs and the side of nachos he'd eaten earlier. Billy was also older, more confident, and fresh out of the Marines.

The cheerleaders weren't doing much to help him, either.

"Billy! Go, Billy! Woo!" Jumping wildly into the air, Rebecca waved her pop poms and cheered enthusiastically despite not knowing any catchy rhymes. The 'woman' beside her, though, was not as pleased.

Wesker was unhappily pouting on the bench, pom poms of his own off to the side and as far away from him as possible. He crossed his arms and legs, head turned away from the struggling men and eyebrows so deeply furrowed that they almost disappeared under his sunglasses. The pleated skirt and knee-high stockings were itchy, revealing, and he wanted nothing more than to take them off as soon as he was alone.

Chris' head shot up as soon as Wesker stood abruptly, obviously pissed about something. Billy temporarily got the upper hand and toppled him over to the side while he was distracted, panting as Chris stared up in shock. They locked eyes for a moment before Chris shot up and dashed after Wesker, kicking up turf as he went.

Rebecca jumped into his arms, all happiness and cheer and short, short miniskirt, and Billy decided to let the lovebirds to it. He knew Wesker had staged it the whole time, anyway.

* * *

Stretched out in the lone leather chair in the room, Wesker glanced at the door to make sure it was bolted securely before he felt he was safe for the time being. Skimming his right hand across his chest to play with the buckles on his vest, he flipped the switchboard with his left until every screen in the room was lit up with various images of the mansion.

Ignoring the zombies shambling down the hallways and feasting on themselves, Wesker scanned each image until he spied Chris carefully shuffling into a room, gun drawn and at the ready. The young man looked visibly relieved as he saw the bed at the other side of the room, shoving a large storage chest in front of the door before collapsing on the mattress.

Wesker's hand moved southward as Chris shed his bloody tactical vest, plucking at the button on his pants until it and the zipper were undone. As Chris writhed on the bed in relief, Wesker palmed himself roughly, silently wishing he was the one to make Chris squirm.

Wrapping his hand fully around his length, the gloves rough against his flesh, Wesker jerked himself harder as Chris slept restlessly a few rooms away. His lungs strained to drag in air as he neared completion, turning his head away as he came. He didn't deserve to look at Chris anymore.

Not after what he'd done to him. Done to them all.

* * *

The handcuffs clanged loudly against the metal bed frame as Billy jerked reflexively, the man above him licking along the edges of his tattoo and thrusting tortuously slow inside him. He wrapped his legs around tan hips to pull Chris in harder, but hands came down and gripped the back of his knees, restricting his movements to almost nothing.

Stilling himself, Chris resisted the urge to thrust as Billy squirmed impatiently, throwing his head back and whispering pleas interspersed with curses until Chris mouthed his way along the lean neck. The movement continued, still slow, still deliciously hot.

"Hate you... hate you, hate you..." Billy hissed, arching his back off the bed.

"No, you don't..." Chuckling, Chris traced circles with his tongue around a nipple before biting gently and drawing a long groan from the other man, "Say the magic word."

"P-please... you l-little brat..." His breath was coming in short, rattling gasps, now, body shaking under the tension in his arms and the soreness everywhere else.

Shoving forward roughly, Chris savored the startled cry while it lasted before hiking Billy's legs over his shoulders and working them both towards ecstasy.


	7. 7

I'm totally giving up on remembering all of these prompts. I have a terrible memory, I apologize. For now, I think I'll stop labeling the drabbles with their prompts and who gave them until I can remember them. I'll get back to labeling them, though, in later chapters. And my two primary prompters know who they are. :) But other than that, I hope you all enjoy these, even those who don't review! It's the hit and visitor counts that matter.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Not a damn thing. I do this for fun, not profit. All creative rights to the characters and storyline belong to their original creators. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

Dipping his fingertips in the green goop that had been poured into the small bowl beside him, Chris smeared it across Billy's back in a messy blob.

"This is disgusting, you know." Billy muttered, shivering as the globule dripped down his back.

Shrugging, Chris dragged his fingers through the mess and started spreading it outward into organic swirls, leading them up to the older man's shoulders and down towards the small of his back. "I didn't hear any complaints last night when I-"

"Shut up!" Red-faced, Billy tried not to laugh as Chris tickled his sides with the green body body paint, then tried not to moan as it was licked clean off afterward.

* * *

After an early ritual of curing the illness of morning wood, Chris started up the shower while Billy fetched two large towels to place on the counter. The younger man was bending to pull the tab and run the shower when Billy cleared his throat, and he looked up to see the ex-marine leaning casually against the tiled wall, hands playing at the fine line of hair at his navel.

Chris smirked and let the warm up as it came from the shower head, moving to gather Billy into his arms to have his way with him.

Well, he tried, anyways.

The porcelain tub was more slippery than he thought, and with just one tiny slip, Chris tipped forward and caught himself just before he headbutted Billy's dick.

"That was close."

Nodding, Chris steadied himself before raising his head a little, licking lightly at the sensitive organ in front of his face.

Billy's knees gave out.

* * *

Rebecca could feel her ribcage constricting around her lungs as she was pressed hard into the smooth chest below her, trying her damnedest not to pass out from the heat and the sheer pleasure that was shooting through every nerve of her body. Two pairs of hands roamed across the skin that wasn't sandwiched between the two large men, warming her further and making her moan against Billy's collar bone.

Beneath her, Billy looked like he was about to pass out himself, eyes wide open but completely unseeing. Every now and again, one particular thrust would send him into throes of sweet agony, and she could feel it from the way he bucked harder into her. She could tell it was coming by the way he whimpered ever so slightly, setting Chris off on a chain reaction above her.

Chris, himself, was out of her line of sight, but Rebecca knew he was having the time of his life. He controlled the movements of their set up while he was still free to shift and adjust as he pleased. Keeping as low as he could, Chris nipped at her shoulder blades until she arched into it, small hands clenching the sheets.

Rebecca felt more pressure build up as Chris stretched upwards to kiss her shoulder, her neck, her cheek, and her lips until she had to turn away and gasp for air. Chris moved on, bending them all awkwardly until he was shoving his tongue in Billy's mouth in a rough, messy kiss.

She couldn't resist dragging her lips across Billy's sharp jaw line or her fingers through Chris' unruly hair.

* * *

Swinging the shutters open, Billy strode to the bar and sat at the counter, brushing the dirt off his jacket as he signaled the barmaid.

"Just a beer, darlin'." He muttered, knocking his hat back to sweep a hand over tousled black hair. The girl filled up a glass and sent it skidding down the counter easily, and Billy caught it with a mildly impressed look. "You new?"

The barmaid adjusted her tight fitting top before shrugging. "A little. Not my first time working, though."

Billy smirked. "I like you." he admitted, waiting for her to look up before continuing, "You let me know if you ever need help, alright? I'll come running." Admiring the flattered look on her face, he added teasingly, "Girls like you need a big strong man around to protect 'em, don't they?"

Frowning, the girl turned away to wipe down the counter, leaning to get the far edges. "Sure."

The shutters opened with a bang again, a man walking in with a shotgun drawn and raised in Billy's direction. A wanted poster hung off his belt.

Before Billy could react and do something, the barmaid had snatched up a gun from underneath the counter and fired a warning shot at the man's feet. When he flinched and only set his finger on the trigger, she fired again, this time hitting his hand and sending him running back out, blood dripping from his wound. The gun lay abandoned on the floor.

Eyebrows raised, Billy looked back at the barmaid as she calmly put the gun back and resumed cleaning.

"What was that about needing protection?" she asked sweetly.

* * *

Heart thumping loudly in her ears, Rebecca leaned against the wall and sunk down, curling her legs until her knees were level with her chin. The gun in her hands was clutched possessively against her chest, fingers trembling around the trigger.

She was alone.

Gunfire went off in the distance, two guns, meaning she was still being followed by their second opponent. The predator was harder to throw off than she initially thought.

She was alone.

Rebecca could hear footsteps now, confident strides that made her feel like all was lost, though they were merely footsteps.

She was alone.

With Albert.

"I know you're here." Albert called out, startling her to the point that her grip on the gun fumbled and she dropped it. Scrambling to pick it up, the man fired and missed her nose by an inch as she pulled back and took off down the corridor with her gun.

Billy couldn't be far now.

* * *

Flicking tiny, colored gems into a small pile on the table, Albert counted them as they conglomerated. When he'd picked out all of the rubies, he swept them into his palm and shuffled them into a small, clear baggie. He did the same with the topaz, emeralds, and sapphires before leaving the citrine for later, too tired to test the material for authenticity.

Instead, Albert made his way down to the tiny cockpit and draped himself over the occupied seat, scratching at messy brown hair until the seated man looked up.

Christopher looked extremely tired, but there was a smug grin on his face as Albert stroked his jaw. "How much did we make?"

"About twenty thousand, but we may have our hands on natural citrine. Expect a higher price later, when I'm done." Rolling his shoulders to relieve some of the tension in them, Albert slid his hands down and under Christopher's arms. "Put the ship on auto pilot. I want to sleep, and I won't do it knowing you're wasting away in here."

Huffing, Christopher smirked before setting the auto pilot and cloaking the ship, letting Albert tug him along to their small, cozy bedroom. "Up for some celebratory sex?"

Albert thought for a moment before pushing his partner of many things onto the bed. "Sleep can wait, I think."

* * *

Billy hated the feeling of zero gravity more than anything else in the universe. He wasn't exactly the best at handling motion sickness when in a hover car, either, but having his dinner floating around in his stomach was making him queasy.

The anti-gravity switch was only pressed to allow them to pass through a wormhole safely. It tended to screw with the wormhole's structure and send them in a completely different direction than they were headed for. In Billy's personal opinion, he'd rather be somewhere he wasn't supposed to over securing himself to the ceiling any day.

The door to the cockpit opened and Rebecca came out, floating over to him easily with no signs of illness. "Still sick?" she asked, a hand running along his jaw as she looked at him through a medic's perspective.

Billy nodded, eyes squeezed shut as he cupped her hand in his, pulling her closer with his other arm. "Distract me."

"With what?"

"Anything."

She giggled cutely and brought her hands down to his chest, rubbing away the nausea slowly. Hers was a healing touch that Billy could never resist.


	8. 8

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Not a damn thing. I do this for fun, not profit. All creative rights to the characters and storyline belong to their original creators. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

(Requested by DaggerArcadia(?))  
Batting away the candies floating in front of his face, Albert frowned at his companion as the brunet popped open another jar of them.

"Stop that." he muttered, trying to read his novel in peace. Christopher was having none of it, though, digging through the jar and examining each candy that came out.

"Did you seriously eat all the cherry ones?" He shook the jar in frustration and watched the candy drift away. One traveled towards his mouth and he snatched it up with his tongue, grimacing. Lime flavored.

Albert turned a page casually. "Not all of them." Amused with the way Christopher's head snapped towards him, he beckoned the younger man to come closer and let go of the book in favor of holding his partner. He glanced down at Christopher's lips, then back up pointedly.

Catching on, Christopher grinned and pressed their mouths together, pleased when Albert brought his tongue into play and he tasted cherry flavoring, sucking on the candy that followed a moment later. They passed it back and forth until Christopher got impatient and crunched it between his molars, now intent on tasting Albert.

* * *

(Requested by DaggerArcadia)  
The fruity slush in her martini glass was cool in Rebecca's parched throat as she sipped, crossing her ankles at the end of the lawn chair. Beside her, Billy wiped at the sweat beginning to form at his brow and stretched, the tight muscles of his stomach suddenly becoming very appealing to her.

Rebecca tipped her glasses down to get a better look, only to be distracted as Chris screamed bloody murder. Startled, Rebecca looked up and saw Chris for just a second before he fell into the pool, Wesker's arm outstretched from where he stood on the deck.

"Play nice, boys!" She called out, Billy chuckling as Wesker gave her an absentminded thumbs up before kneeling to peer over the edge of the pool.

Shaking her head, Rebecca smirked and took another sip of her slush, only to almost choke on it when Wesker was pulled head first into the water by a tan hand. Billy patted her back while she coughed.

"I think it's time we go back inside." He said, giving the pool an amused look.

Confused, Rebecca stopped her coughing to glance up. "What? Why?"

"Because Wesker and Chris are in the pool." Billy met her blank stare. "Together." Still oblivious. "Alone."

Rebecca finally clued in and gasped at the place where the men had disappeared. "Yeah, yeah, let's go in! Right now!" Taking her drink in one hand, she dragged Billy back to the house as the men in the water surfaced, gasping for air.

She didn't think it was because of the water.

* * *

(Requested by DaggerArcadia)  
Chris waved as Rebecca took Billy by the hand and left for the pier, then settled back on his towel to bask in the sun and eat his ice cream.

The sweet maple treat was frothing as it melted, sticking to the back of his tongue. It dripped all around the cone, forcing Chris to lick frantically as he spun it around.

Wesker's attention was drawn to the man beside him when Chris started getting vocal, swearing up and down that the sun hated him and so did the food. When he'd finished off the cone and was making a face at the mess on his hand, Wesker rolled his eyes and yanked on Chris' wrist.

"Hey, Wesk-" Gulping, Chris' mouth went bone dry as the blond lapped at the rivulets of ice cream decorating his hand, taking his time licking each individual finger before swallowing them down quickly. He took his hand back when it seemed Wesker was done and was pulled into a kiss, licking the last bits of ice cream from each other's mouths.

* * *

(Requested by DaggerArcadia(?))  
Rebecca propped her chin up with her hand, elbow against the wooden table as she listened to Billy tell a story to Jill. She didn't know what it was about, having been preoccupied with eating her tiger-tiger ice cream before it melted into a messy puddle, but by the way Jill was laughing, it was apparently funny.

"Oh!" Suddenly remembering the five dollars she owed Jill, Rebecca put her ice cream down to bend over and reach for her bag.

It was the worst idea possible.

While she rifled through her things, a spotty feathered seagull targeted her innocent ice cream and, with one fell swoop, it snatched the treat with its beak and flew off before either Jill or Billy could stop it.

Staring forlornly at the spot her tiger-tiger had been, Rebecca passed the five dollar bill to Jill before she grabbed her gun from the bag, aiming it at the thieving gull.

"_You bastard! _I'll kill you!" She screeched, Jill practically in hysterics as Billy frantically held Rebecca's arms down and tried to hide the gun from the group of children just down the beach.

* * *

(Requested by DaggerArcadia)  
The motel room was cheap, dank, and filthy, but after the nightmares that followed him from the training facility, it was a five star hotel to Billy.

Dropping onto the bed, Billy rubbed his face in the dull gray blanket on the bed and thought of Rebecca.

Despite the fact that they had only known each other for barely a day, the tiny medic had become an important person in his life in no time at all. She'd saved his live countless times just as he saved hers, put her unwavering trust in hands she thought were stained with old blood. Rebecca was brave, so much braver than himself, diving straight into another infected place to find her team while he ran away like the coward he was. He could have protected her a while longer, even if he risked getting caught and arrested again.

Even if Billy ever saw her again, he knew she'd never recognize him. Hell, he probably wouldn't recognize her, either. She was still so young. She'd grow to be an amazing woman.

Shutting his eyes, Billy tried to ignore the emotion that ate at his heart. He wanted Rebecca at his side, treating his wounds and watching his back.

He wanted her forever.

* * *

(Requested by DaggerArcadia)  
Moving languidly, Chris kneaded the skin of Wesker's abdomen as he rocked, shocks of pleasure tingling up his spine. Hands clutched at his hips, thumbing the faint 'v' as they pulled him down on the length buried deep inside him. Wesker's eyes, the color of fresh ice, were burning trails into his flesh as his gaze moved up and down, observing, memorizing the contours in his body.

He could see stars behind his eyelids, bursting colors that broke apart immediately after they appeared. The ecstasy he felt possessed him, overcame his senses until he collapsed on top of Wesker, mindlessly thrusting as he panted into a hot mouth.

Cupping the side of the blond's face, he met the icy gaze that was so full of heat and warmth. At the moment of release, he swore he saw red, bright and vivid in the darkness, replace the blue.

Though the dream turned into the beginnings of a nightmare, Chris never wanted to wake up.

* * *

(Challenge with DaggerArcadia and Lastglances)  
Their hands were everywhere on Albert's body, teasing any and all pale flesh that was within reach. Wesker's were both light and commanding, tilting his head back into an open kiss as he stroked his abdomen. Chris used the hand that wasn't burying its fingers into Wesker to roll and pinch at Albert's nipples hard, earning cries that escaped into Wesker's mouth. Christopher had busied himself with his groin, driving fingers inside Albert and tonguing the ring of muscle all while fingering himself.

Groaning, Albert mouthed his way along Wesker's jaw when Christopher entered him just as Chris found Wesker's prostate. His alternate bucked against the small of his back to glean friction off him, but the smooth, damp surface did nothing to ease the pressure.

Chris took the opportunity to withdraw his fingers and apply more lube to himself, then pushed inside Wesker slowly, making him release a long, drawn out moan.

Albert chuckled at Wesker's self-proclaimed loss of control, but nearly choked on the air between them all as the other blond grabbed behind his knees and pulled them upwards. His legs were raised until the front of his thighs were touching his shoulders, allowing Christopher to sink in so deeply he lost track of where Christopher ended and he began.

Lapping at the nape of Wesker's neck, Chris watched as his alternate and Wesker kissed messily, hearing Albert's breathy moans and wanting to silence them with his own lips.


	9. 9

Alright, _finally _got this chapter out and done. Well, it's been done for a while, but I forgot to post. Stupid me. I'm slowly managing the labeling of all the drabbles (Lastglances is starting to call them ficlets, so I think that's what they'll be from now on). The very last one is prompted by USWeasilgirl, who wanted Billy/Becca with a Red Riding Hood theme. I think I failed, seeing as how I haven't heard the whole thing in years, and there's so many variations of it that I got confused all to Hell. But I tried, and I hope it's to her liking.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Not a damn thing. I do this for fun, not profit. All creative rights to the characters and storyline belong to their original creators. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

(Requested by DaggerArcadia)

Arms locking around Billy's neck, Rebecca giggled as he ran his hands down her body, knowing the motion was meant to be sensual but unable to resist the tickle. She let her toes wander along his legs, making him shudder and grin playfully before he dropped them both to the carpet.

They rolled and pawed at each other until Billy finally caught her small hands in his large one, tickling her sides again as she writhed on her stomach and beamed in delight. "Enough of that, Princess." he chuckled.

"Aw, but I wanted to play some more!" Rebecca pouted, sending him The Eyes as best she could.

Smirking, Billy pushed up her shirt and exposed the small of her back, lowering himself to kiss the skin he found. "Who says we're not playing anymore?"

* * *

(Requested by DaggerArcadia)

"I didn't know you could dance." Rebecca said, twirling as Billy spun her quickly with his hand before swinging her back around into his arms.

"You never asked." Billy grinned and she smiled back, lips painted an alluring shade of red. He spun her outwards and caught her when she came back, the short cocktail dress she wore floating outwards like a cloud.

They both looked up as they slowed, pressed together under the stars, and Rebecca laid her head down on Billy's chest as he began to sing quietly along to the music.

"Fill my heart with song, and let me sing forever more." Rebecca noted that he was terrible at singing, but she giggled and let him continue.

"You are all I long for, all I worship and adore." They spun around again, Billy stopping them to look into her eyes. "In other words, please be true. In other words..." He kissed her forehead. "...I love you."

* * *

(Requested by ?)

Groaning loudly, Chris blearily opened his eyes to bright lights, blinking to clear the fuzzy smudges in his vision. He brought a hand up to run it through his hair, but was stopped by the IV in his arm. Machines beeped and whirred beside him, monitoring his vitals and generally being a nuisance.

Chris sat up slowly, surprised that he didn't feel any pain, and bumped his hand against something warm and soft. He looked down, finding a lean, muscled forearm that led to a covered shoulder, both supporting the blond head that rested on them. What was Wesker doing there, and sleeping, no less?

A nurse came in, interrupting any thoughts Chris had, and smiled at the two.

"Good morning. How are you feeling?" She asked, checking the IV tubes. A cup of pills was placed on the small table beside the bed.

"I'm okay. No pain, or anything."

The nurse nodded. "That's the morphine working, then." Turning away from the heart monitor, she gestured towards Wesker. "That's a fine Captain you got there, boy. He stayed here all night and never once left your side. Said he felt responsible and wouldn't leave until he knew you were alright." She chuckled. "Send him home someday soon. He can't be comfortable in that chair."

When the nurse left, Chris thought on what she said. Wesker felt responsible? What did she...?

Oh. He remembered now. Wesker had been aiming at a gang lord and was tackled, the gun going off by accident and hitting Chris. There was a lot of pain, he recalled, and the Captain's hands had been holding the entry and exit wounds in his chest as Chris passed out.

Lifting the hand without the IV, Chris ran his fingers through Wesker's hair as the man slept, deciding that the blond wasn't too much of a jerk after all.

* * *

(Requested by DaggerArcadia)

Chris hated mornings with Wesker. It wasn't the fact that the Captain woke up at six in the morning to go get the paper and work in his office, nor the lack of cuddles he initiated.

Wesker could read minds. Chris was sure of it.

He was merely dozing in bed as he sat up, listening to Wesker brush his teeth and thinking about how he was going to cook breakfast today. He kind of felt like having his eggs scrambled...

"Scrambled is fine, Chris, just don't cook them as long this time."

"What the fuck?" He whipped his head around to see Wesker putting his toothbrush away and taking out the razor. "How'd you do that?"

"Do what?"

Chris stared in silence before shaking his head and moving to the kitchen. "Nothing."

After fixing breakfast, Wesker did it again while he was washing dishes.

Wesker had a business meeting to go to and would be gone all day, seeming entirely displeased with who was going to be there. Chris sympathized and hugged him goodbye while keeping the sink sponge away, thinking the three words he desperately wanted to say aloud.

"I know."

Chris dropped the sponge.

* * *

(Requested by Lastglances)

Christopher's back hits the bed and Albert follows a split second later, ripping the buttons off the brunet's expensive shirt. They haven't had sex in over a week, having been caught up in meetings and, after the days are over, too tired for any form of affection bar cuddling. Now that all the business had been taken care of, they were finally free to enjoy each other again.

Fumbling with their pants, they both take a few moments to shed the last of their clothing before they're on each other again. Christopher paws at Albert's chest, brushing the ever sensitive nipples and stroking along the defined abdominal muscles, unable to go further when Albert grinds down on him.

Impatience overtakes Albert and he snakes a hand down Christopher's backside, catching his lips in his mouth as Christopher arches into the touch. He prods at the entrance his fingers find and the brunet bucks upwards, eyes flying open as Albert prepares him dry. It hasn't been long enough that he needs lubrication, but there will still be an uncomfortable stretch when Albert finally enters him.

When he finally does, Christopher is surprised to find that Albert is taking his time, raising himself so they could both watch him disappear slowly inside. There's no burn like he thought there would be, only the heat in his chest that grows when Albert looks him in the eye and moves.

* * *

(Requested by Lastglances)

Chris has taken his car to fetch a quick dinner for them, and knowing the marksman, it will end up being something cheap and greasy. Wesker doesn't particularly care, though, not when he's almost screaming at the phone. The man on the other end tells him there's no choice in the matter and that he and Chris will have to go to court over the criminal's charges. He knows they'll win, but Wesker had planned on keeping his stress levels down by spending a day at home with Chris, not arguing his case and writing out a week's worth of paperwork.

The door opens and Wesker nearly throws the phone at the invader until he realizes it's just Chris.

The marksman holds his hands up in mock-surrender, two paper bags of Chinese food in his grip. He sees the frustrated, stressed face of his Captain and frowns in concern, putting the take-out on the table. "Wesker, everything alright?"

Looking at the phone, Wesker hangs up properly and chucks the phone to the floor, clearing the distance between them in three long strides. Chris is barely out of his jacket before the blond snags the front of his shirt and yanks him forward for a rough kiss, one that Chris has trouble keeping up with. Wesker's hands are roaming all over him, though, so he can't complain.

They palm each other through their clothes, Wesker biting down the side of his neck while Chris rubs his cheek in the blond locks coming out of their hold. They stumble when Chris gropes at his groin and tickles the spot on the small of his back where he's extra sensitive.

Wesker decides he's had enough and pulls away to shove him down over the end of the couch. It's the second time he's favoring Chris instead of his beloved leather sofa, but the temptation is too great. The man in front of him just writhes so beautifully, back arched as Wesker grinds against him through their pants.

Wesker shoves the sweater Chris is wearing out of the way and licks a wet trail up his spine, undoing their pants with his free hand. Chris groans as his pants are yanked down to his thighs, hands sliding across the leather cushions. He almost cries out when Wesker shoves his fingers inside him, but ends up hollering as his prostate is stroked mercilessly, harder than he's used to. Wesker keeps it up for a long while, and he's thrown into sweet agony as orgasm sweeps across his body, trembling uncontrollably.

Wesker doesn't wait for Chris to recover, aligning himself before thrusting in all the way, pressing as far as he can get and still craving more. Chris' delirious moans and sluggish movements spur him on, so he leans down to nip at the shell of his ear as he grinds inside slowly. The pace doesn't keep their attention, though, and Chris rubs his renewing erection against the couch when Wesker's hips move erratically.

A satisfied moan from Wesker fills his ears just as he feels warmth release inside himself, and Chris pleads for completion. Wesker thinks on it for no more than a second before he reaches around the marksman and jerks his cock quickly, pulling out only to put his fingers back in and stroke until Chris is coming again. He's nearly silent this time, colors exploding behind his eyelids as Wesker rests on top of him.

* * *

(Requested by Lastglances)

"I can't believe you talked me into this..." Albert said dryly, but took his pants off anyway, holding the phone against his shoulder as he unbuttoned the shirt. A small bottle of lube sat innocently on the chaise already.

He could hear Christopher's devious chuckle from the other end of the phone. "Well, I _am_ going to be gone another month. It's only fair that I repay your stupid missions with something to keep me going."

Rolling his eyes, Albert reclined on the chaise by the window and got comfortable, "Get on with it, then."

"Fine, fine..." Albert could almost see the smirk on the other man's lips. "I want you to get yourself hard, Al. Put me on speaker and use both of your hands."

The blond did as he was told, setting the phone beside him and turning on the speaker before stroking himself firmly. It wasn't difficult to arouse himself, not with Christopher on the phone, and he brought his right hand down to run his cold fingers over his balls. He shivered, and the next instructions came as soon as he moaned lightly.

"Good. Now, use your right hand and run your fingers over your dick. Lightly." Albert sucked in a breath when he moved his hand up, the tips of his fingers both tickling and cool. "Oil up your other hand and go low, Al, real low. Pretend it's me."

Doing so, Albert shuddered and prodded at his entrance, waiting for Christopher.

"Put one finger in, as slowly as you can manage." he said, and Albert obeyed, muffling a hiss by biting his lip. It was a little tricky with the angle he was at, but leaning forward was a suitable remedy. When Christopher told him to add another, he ended up huffing when he found his prostate. Fingering himself wasn't something he did often.

"Wow, you found it already." Christopher chuckled, sounding a little out of breath himself. "Keep it up, Al. Finger yourself roughly, and don't come until I tell you."

Putting more pressure on his prostate, Albert strained as he moved his fingers faster, still torturing his length with light, unbearable lines with his other hand. He was moaning almost loudly, but he was past the point of caring, writhing in his seat. Christopher sounded like he was close already, his breath audible through the speaker.

When he felt like he was about to burst, Christopher had him wrap his hand around his cock and jerk himself hard, thrusting both into his hand and onto his fingers. By this point, Albert's chest had gone red from exertion and he was panting desperately, fairing no better than Christopher. On the other end of the phone, a single word was commanded to him, and the relief he felt was almost as intense as the orgasm that wracked his body like an earthquake.

"Come."

* * *

(Requested by USWeasilgirl)

Rebecca knew never to take the forest path when going to visit Jill, but the main road was blocked off for construction, and her feet were getting sore.

Firmly patting down her red velvet hat and tightening the matching shawl around her shoulders, Rebecca took the side path into the woods, intent on detouring around the construction. It wasn't a very used path, indicated by the ferns and moss that overtook it, but Rebecca found herself navigating easily.

At some point along the way, something rustled in the bushes several feet from where she stood, but when she turned her head, there was nothing. Shrugging it off, Rebecca continued on her way, clutching her basket of food just a little closer to her body.

Jill's small house finally came into view up on the hill, but when Rebecca rang the doorbell and waited patiently, it wasn't Jill who answered the door.

"You're not Jill." She stated, eying the blue beret perched atop Billy's head. He merely grinned at her.

"Of course I'm Jill, silly Red Riding Hood."

"Who?"

Billy blinked and chuckled in disbelief. "You don't know about Little Red Riding Hood?" At her shake of the head, Billy rolled his eyes and pulled Rebecca inside the house. "You're in for a treat, then."


	10. 10

As always, more ficlets for you all to read. If you haven't noticed at all, I try to keep on a five day update track, so be sure to check back every five or so days. Thanks to everyone who reads these, and also everyone on Tumblr!

And for that HUGE delay in FF's servers, I FINALLY give you an update. Jesus, that was just terrible. Special thanks go to Lastglances, because without her and her brain made of awesome that knows to use Google in times of need, this chapter would be VERY late.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Not a damn thing. I do this for fun, not profit. All creative rights to the characters and storyline belong to their original creators. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

(Requested by Lastglances)  
Shivering violently, Christopher resisted the urge to curl up into a ball to store heat and instead followed Albert as he droned on about the architecture around them. It really was quite fascinating when he bothered to listen, but when the wind chill nipped at his exposed hands and face, he stopped paying attention and started rubbing his hands to keep warm.

Moscow had hit a temperature of almost negative ten, and while that wasn't much to shiver about, Chris couldn't stand the breeze that came with it. His jaw was sore, his ears ached, and his sinuses burned from the cold. When they left their hotel, Christopher hadn't brought the right jacket, either, and it ended up costing him precious body heat while Albert was snug as a bug in his thick, fuzzy black coat. He wasn't a very happy camper.

Unfortunately, Albert halted, forcing Christopher to stop or run into the man, and directed him to look over to the large arch built in the center of a city square. It was called the Triumphal Arch, and it was certainly beautiful; the stone lit up until it shone bright white, and the statues below were silhouetted against the walls. Christopher just didn't have the attention span nor the patience right now to admire it.

Albert was cut off from his telling of information when Christopher waddled towards him, hunched over as he undid his jacket and the ties keeping Albert's large coat closed. He didn't have the chance to ask anything before the younger man had stuffed his arms inside to wrap around him, pressing himself against the mercifully warm body. As Christopher fit himself snugly into a comfortable position, Albert rolled his eyes and kept the coat closed over both of them with his hands.

"I thought you said you weren't cold." he stated, chuckling when Christopher's cold face buried itself in his neck.

"I lied."

"Don't you want to see more of the city?"

Christopher raised his head a little to kiss the small amount of skin available on Albert's neck. "In a minute." He held Albert tighter and felt his chest warm from the inside when the blonde returned the embrace.

* * *

(Requested by Lastglances)  
Albert comes in with a bowl of hot soup (prepared beforehand by Christopher's mother) and dry, saltine crackers as Christopher moans pathetically from the bed, stricken with a bad case of the flu. He's buried under four layers of blankets and still complains of being cold, but Albert ignores his hoarse whining and puts the soup down on the chair beside the bed.

He helps him sit up carefully, mindful of Christopher's sensitive skin below his shirt. Too much pressure causes the man pain, so he takes his hands away to place pillows behind the brunet's back. When Christopher leans back slowly, wincing, Albert passes him the soup and sits back to watch.

Christopher's hands are shaking as he scoops up a spoonful, and half of it has dropped back into the bowl by the time it reaches his mouth. He gives Albert a nasty look when Albert chuckles at his incompetence and tries again, but even less makes it to his lips.

Batting Christopher's hands away, Albert picks up the bowl and pushes back the pillows. He slips in behind the sick man and replaces the bowl. His hand steadies Christopher's as he takes another spoonful, filling his mouth with the strong broth and slippery noodles of his mother's homemade soup.

When the bowl is half empty and Christopher refuses to eat any more, lest it come up for another glimpse of the sun, Albert sets it aside and lets Christopher adjust by himself. They end up entwined as much as the sick man can bear to stand and Christopher confesses how grateful he is for Albert taking the day off to see him.

Albert merely nods and strokes Christopher's jaw until he's asleep, and presses a kiss to the unkempt red-brown hair on his head.

* * *

(Requested by DaggerArcadia)  
Taking a deep breath, Chris busted the door down at Wesker's firm nod and rushed inside, scanning the room for immediate threats. He made sure to check the ceiling, because last time they stormed a room, Chris had been assailed by slimy blobs of goop and spines before Wesker pried them all off for him.

The room was clear, so Chris called Wesker in and together they shoved a rusted hospital gurney in front of the door. They didn't want any surprises while they searched the place for things to use.

Wesker did a sweep of the shelves and found nothing significant, and Chris knelt to check under the tables and other gurneys.

"Find anything?" Wesker asked once he was done, and Chris stood up, shaking his head.

"No, you?"

"Nothing."

An tense silence filled the room, but the clang-clang-_scrape_ outside the room made them both jump. Chris readied the rifle they found earlier and Wesker brings out the shotgun. They knew what was outside and what would happen if they were caught.

The clanging faded away, but they refused to let their guards down. Their actions were proved correct, as the gurney was cut clean in two by the knife that protruded through the door. It retracted, and Chris jumped backwards when the knife cleaved through the door and the Bloody Red Pyramid stepped through the wreckage.

It swung its head toward Wesker and bellowed, knife poised high. Chris pulled on Wesker's arm and tugged him out of the way just in time, the ground where he had been now bearing a three feet long and one foot deep gash.

They ran.

* * *

(Requested by Lastglances(?))  
Wesker wakes up slowly, lethargically lifting a hand and stretching his fingers out. Chris is kneeling by his side, concern and amusement adorning his features. He offers a hand and Wesker takes it reluctantly, allowing himself to be hauled to his feet. He feels almost sick, but Chris pats him gently on the back and snaps him out of it.

"I guess you didn't take to the switch too well." he says, and points to the square portal they just came though. It's shrinking quite quickly, and before Wesker knows it, it's gone and all he can see is the laboratory wall.

The only door in the room opens and Albert and Christopher step in. Christopher looks unhappy that his other self is back, but looks curiously at Wesker. He stares back and only half listens to whatever Albert's saying to them. They trade suspicious looks while the other two men talk briefly, and after they're done, both are suddenly irritated by the others presence.

Chris pats his shoulder when they all exit the room. "You'll like it here. I promise."

Wesker doesn't think so.

* * *

(Requested by Lastglances)  
Albert can tell that Christopher is having more fun than he should while tying up his alternate. He's grinning like a maniac as he pins Chris down and sits on him to tie his arms behind his back. When Chris is secured, he lets up and stands to pick him up, yanking on the rope until Chris is on his feet.

"You're sure this will work?" Albert asks, sipping from his glass of wine. He watches Christopher nod eagerly before dragging Chris over to the bed where Wesker is already restrained. Chris is pushed on top of him and squirms uncomfortably, sending Christopher a vicious look.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he demands, ignoring Wesker's grunts as he moves about.

Christopher scoffs and goes to take a seat by Albert, stealing a swig of the red wine. "_You_ are. You've been bitching constantly about Wesker being an ass." He has to laugh at Chris' jaw dropping and Wesker's eyebrow-raised leer at Chris. "You're staying there until you work things out, and we're here so you don't try and headbutt each other to death."

They end up dozing on the couch as Chris and Wesker argue about their situation, and when they wake up, both of their alternates are moaning loudly and moving in an extremely suggestive way. Christopher gets a mischievous twinkle in his eye and palms Albert's growing erection through his pants while the other two work out their problems.

* * *

(Requested by DaggerArcadia)  
He feels cold suddenly, a bone-chilling iciness in his bloodstream than makes him even more nervous than he already is. Wesker's hands are all over him, massaging the tension from his lower back, but it doesn't help much. Chris swallows the growing lump in his throat and tries to relax when Wesker kneads his buttocks, stopping only to grab the bottle of lube beside them.

Chris flinches when the bottle snaps open and closed, but doesn't shy away when Wesker spreads his legs to press a wet finger inside him. He breathes harshly through his mouth, but there is no pain, and very little discomfort. There's only the newness of having someone invade places even he hasn't dared to touch. Another one is added when he's relaxed a little further, and this time the stretch is odd, and the only way he can describe it is being a hollow pain. They're the words that first come to mind, but are wiped out when Wesker rubs at _something_ and he jerks, yelping in shock. The blond does it again, harder, and Chris feels some of his confidence returning as he shifts back to meet the fingers on their way in.

When they withdraw, Chris feels the cold in his body disappear and a warm feeling he knew too well take its place. Wesker boosts his whole body up until Chris is on his hands and knees, rolling on the condom he'd fished out of the drawer and giving Chris' back a few reassuring rubs. He only has a moment to take a breath before Wesker is pushing in slowly, making him clench the sheets tightly in his hands. When he's fully seated, the Captain lays his torso along Chris' back, one hand holding himself up as the other runs invisible lines down his chest.

Chris gives the go ahead after a minute and groans aloud. The friction, even with the latex condom, is phenomenal, drowning out the mild pain with sheer pleasure. He lets Wesker thrust gently inside him before he pushes back, feeling brave enough to want more.

The pace picks up and Chris' arms give out when his prostate is jabbed at again, and Wesker sticks with that angle to drive him mad with lust. His nervousness and panic is gone completely, having evolved into passion and a desire for release.

Chris can't count the time they spend like this, but it's over far too quickly, in his opinion. Wesker breathes a moan against his neck as he reaches around to jerk Chris into ecstasy, stroking once, twice, before the tightness around him is almost unbearable when Chris comes. The brunet turns his head to look at him, and it's all Wesker needs to tip off the edge.

* * *

(Requested by Lastglances)  
When he sees Albert after he gets out of the elevator, Christopher can't control the movement of his body as it strides over to the other man. Albert is on the couch, sitting patiently with Chris nowhere in sight. There's a book in his hands, meaning that he's been waiting for Christopher, but the brunet takes it from his hands as he bends down to kiss him ferociously, gripping the collar of his shirt and throwing the book somewhere over his shoulder. He doesn't hear the dull _thump_ as it lands, too distracted by the hands carding though his dyed hair.

The last thread of Christopher's patience snaps and he tugs Albert up and over to their bedroom. His grip is tight, but Albert doesn't complain, amused by the younger man's jealous actions. Christopher sees the smirk and pushes Albert down onto the bed, biting at his lips until the blond opens his mouth willingly. He shoves his tongue inside and tangles it with Albert's, moaning as lips close and the tip of his tongue is sucked and teased, like Albert is sucking him off.

Christopher starts ripping at their clothes and Albert assists him, dragging the fabric away when the brunet undoes all the buttons and zippers. When they're bared to each other completely, Christopher is unstoppable when he searches through the nightstand and pulls out the bottle of lube they use. He skips the condom, having gotten himself washed and tested as soon as he got to the lab, and he's never been so thankful that the test results come back completely clean within the hour, thanks to Lacuna's technology.

He wets his fingers and breaks his kiss with Albert to watch the man's ice colored eyes widen when he puts them inside, two then three in quick succession. Their foreheads press together and Albert huffs when Christopher crooks his fingers, arching his back in his merciless assault. He bucks for more, but Christopher is withdrawing already, pressing inside and causing a delicious burn to run down his spine.

Christopher thrusts hard and fast, holding Albert's knees apart so he can reach deeper and forget the feeling of Jill around his cock. It works quite easily, and the feeling of the blond man overtakes him. He grinds deep as he comes earlier than he would have liked, and stays there for a few seconds as he comes down from his high.

Albert is panting breathlessly when he pulls out, still unsatisfied and still clutching at the sheets, but Christopher remedies this by straddling Albert's hips and spearing himself easily. They both groan as Christopher rocks, hands roaming over the muscled chest below him, and he's thrown to the side when Albert swaps their positions.

His legs are raised until his knees are touching his shoulders and Albert's thrusts are suddenly that much more amazing. It's almost unbearable after a time because of Albert's ridiculous amounts of stamina, and Christopher finds himself rock hard again. When Albert finally releases inside him, they entwine their hands and jerk Christopher to completion together. It's breathtaking, mind blowing, and Christopher feels like he could forgive Albert anything he's ever done.


	11. 11

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Not a damn thing. I do this for fun, not profit. All creative rights to the characters and storyline belong to their original creators. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

(Requested by DaggerArcadia)  
Billy's heart raced as he pressed himself against the wall, sitting at the head of the bed as Rebecca peeled off her suit piece by piece. He gulped loudly when she was fully undressed and nervously held his arms out to her. It wasn't his first time, not by a long shot, but it was Rebecca he was about to do this with; he didn't want to hurt her, not in the least bit, but he didn't want to disappoint, either.

Rebecca climbed up his body and took her place against him, adorning butterfly kisses on his lips until he relaxed a bit, hugging her to him and kissing her properly. Her hands went to his shoulders and she bucked her hips once, just to see how he'd react, and he hissed in response, rubbing circles into her back. She mimicked the motion and they both groaned, clutching at the other while they moved.

While Billy's eyes were squeezed shut, Rebecca reached back to steady herself and sunk down onto him, whimpering as he filled her more than anyone else had. His hips strained not to buck up, but Rebecca encouraged him to do so with kisses to the corner of his mouth.

Rebecca goads Billy on when he still seems nervous, tipping them backwards so their heads are where their feet should be. Her cry when Billy accidentally goes deeper than she expected drives him to bring them both to completion, nervousness forgotten as her body arches for his touch, and only his.

* * *

(Requested by Lastglances)  
Christopher feels sick when Albert collapses to the ground, clutching his right side in pain. The gun in his hand smokes when he fires at and takes down the assailant, letting the small entourage of Albert's body guards handle him while Christopher drops to his knees and holds on to Albert. Blood seeps through the shirt and his finger accidentally presses into the stab wound below his rib cage. He apologizes when Albert gasps and tries to staunch the flow of blood with his ruined shirt.

The ambulance is there in a matter of minutes and they're both loaded into the back. The medics take immediate action, but Christopher holds on to Albert's left hand, knowing the blond needs to feel something familiar and comforting. When they arrive at the hospital, Albert is wheeled away and Christopher is forced to stay behind.

Hours pass and Christopher paces around the waiting room constantly. A doctor comes in to inform him that Albert is resting now and that he'll recover just fine, and Christopher bolts down the hall. He searches each room because he didn't wait to ask which one Albert was in, and finds his lover blinking blearily three hallways down, in the very last room on the right.

Christopher almost passes out in relief and climbs onto the bed, mindful of the IV, and presses his ear to Albert's chest. His heartbeat is strong, and he feels like crying when a pale hand comes and strokes through his hair, comforting whispers drifting softly from Albert's lips.

* * *

(Requested by Lastglances)  
Chris can't keep the proud smirk off his face as he thrusts down, hearing Wesker's failing attempts at keeping his breath from hitching. He can't believe he'd overpowered his boss and convinced him to do this, to violate Wesker's precious Mustang GT/CS. Wesker doesn't have much choice, given the fact that Chris had tied him up with his own shirt, but he takes every opportunity between breaths to complain about the car's shocks and how Chris is wearing them out. Chris can see why (he's thrusting hard enough for the car to bounce quite a bit), but he tunes out Wesker's nagging and slants his lips over the blond's.

With his arms raised above his head and hands trapped behind the passenger seat's head rest, Wesker yanks on them in frustration because he refuses to buck and the marksman isn't making it easy, considering he's avoiding his prostate like the brat he is. He snarls and bites at Chris' lips, but the other man pulls away to give him a haughty smile and a suddenly shallow thrust.

Wesker glares at Chris when he stops thrusting altogether, sitting in place and almost completely pulling out. He jerks on his hands again, to no avail, and Chris leans down to tease him, just out of his range.

"Say the magic word..." he chuckles, running his finger's down Wesker's abdomen lightly. The muscles shudder as he makes his way down.

Wesker turns his head, eying the sunglasses sitting next to them. He weighs his choices (take a blow to his pride and get fucked, or keep it in tact and go the next two hours waiting in discomfort as his erection fades), and makes a decision. He looks back at Chris and motions for him to come closer. He nibbles on the ear that's closest to him and feels a small amount of satisfaction at Chris moan.

"...Please." He says it so quietly and in such a whisper that Chris has no choice but to gasp and shove himself further inside, kissing the skin on Wesker's neck. He leaves dark bruises that the others will probably see, but he doesn't care, and neither does Wesker.

* * *

(Requested by Lastglances)  
The trip had been Christopher's Christmas gift to Albert that year. He'd put away a decent amount of his paychecks for a few months and eventually rented a cabin that he paid for completely. Even the shelves and fridge were stocked with enough food to last them and the dogs.

Albert took the chance to relax as Christopher played outside with Rodrigo and Jean, throwing snowballs for the terrier and sculpting a throne for the bulldog. He nurses a cup of hot tea and watches Christopher roll a snowball, only to have the dogs roll it back at him.

When they come inside an hour later, Christopher is soaking wet and the dogs are licking snow off each other. They go to lay down in their little bed and Albert gets up to help his lover peel out of his wet clothing. Christopher snatches a blanket from the closet and shucks his cold boxers before curling in front of the fire place, shivering the warmth back into himself.

More clothes are dropped to the floor and Albert is joining him under the blanket, sharing his body heat though Christopher's skin is making him want to jump away. He deals with it and wraps both arms around the brunet to pull him back against his chest, holding the blanket tighter to seal any gaps. Christopher shifts and tilts his head back enough to smile up at Albert, and the other man smiles and kisses his forehead.

The fire crackles and burns, but they are only warmed by each other.

* * *

(Requested by DaggerArcadia)  
Billy was surprised to see their recent capture go so smoothly. He had to wait in the shadows while Rebecca did the real work, providing backup when she needed it, but the petite girl had blown his mind that day. She took down three men completely by herself, and had used moves that looked painful to both give and receive. But Rebecca came out just fine, not a single ache in her body, and Billy suddenly felt curious.

When Rebecca finished up her report to the regular police, Billy brought her to the small training room at the back of their ship and demanded she show him exactly what she had done earlier. She gave him an odd look.

"Why am I doing this, again?" She asked, watching as Billy grabbed two padded arm guards and put them on.

Billy shrugged and held up his arms defensively. "Just curious. Now, hit me!" He goaded, smirking when she tilted her head and rushed at him.

He was caught off guard when Rebecca jumped fairly high for someone her height and brought her leg up far enough to almost do the splits. Billy blocked just in time to avoid a nasty blow to the head as she flipped forward and used the momentum to perform a back kick. She landed lightly on her feet and swept her other leg out to knock his feet out from underneath him, crouching lower than he could ever possibly go.

By the end of it, Billy had acquired bruised wrists despite the guards, but he did learn just how far her legs could really bend as he manipulated her into putty on the bed.

* * *

(Requested by DaggerArcadia)  
"Oh, come on! How hard could it possibly be to find a box on a moon that no one has ever been on? I mean, really!" Christopher complained, eyes searching the vast expanse of gray dust and deep craters.

Albert rolled his eyes. "Why don't you ask yourself? You _were_ the one to shoot the carrier's storage compartment down. Whatever happened to your flawless aim?" He half-teased, slowly growing tired of Christopher's whining.

Christopher kicked at a pile of dust and watched it float up in a dense cloud. "It was your fault; you couldn't keep your hands off my ass while I was working the canon!"

"I'll let you 'work' something else as soon as we find the storage compartment. Now keep looking."

Growling, Christopher glared at his partner's back before scooping up a rock. He weighed it in his hands before chucking it in Albert's direction. It ended up floating away with no force behind it, Albert chuckling at his sorry attempt at bodily harm.

He upped his pace and caught Albert by the arm, spinning him around and shoving a hand between their bodies to rub at the blond's crotch.

"What are you doing, Christopher?"

"Jerking you off in space. The compartment's over there, by the way." Christopher pointed to somewhere off to the left, but Albert ignored it in favor of grinding lightly into the gloved hand.

* * *

(Requested by Lastglances)  
"You know I have meetings I can't ignore, Chris. I told you that months ago."

"We _planned_ this months ago, Wesker! I worked my ass off to plan the whole day out, and you just blew me off for some meeting that '_just came up_' and lasted all fucking day? I can't _believe_ you!" Chris snarled, hands clenching tightly into fists. When Wesker didn't say anything, he let out a frustrated sound and turned away, grabbing his jacket off the coat rack.

"Where are you going?"

"Home." Shoving his arms into the sleeves, Chris stormed out of the apartment and didn't look back to see if Wesker was following him.

He got the Jeep started outside and willed himself to calm down enough to drive properly. As the car rumbled, Chris rested his forehead against the wheel for a moment before he felt good enough to drive. He pulled out of his spot and took his time getting home, driving as slow as he could with the speed limit.

Home wasn't exactly the most calming place when Chris arrived, his neighbor blasting his stereo loud enough to be heard through the walls. Chris decided he didn't care and threw his keys and jacket on the floor before collapsing on the couch, burying his face in the hard, lumpy pillow. He felt cold without Wesker's amazing blankets, but he banished the thought and tugged the thin, raggedy one down from the back of the couch to wrap up around his shoulders. It didn't cover much, but at least it was something.

Closing his eyes, Chris forced himself into a restless sleep, tossing and turning and making his clothes bunch up uncomfortably. His mind wouldn't stop racing, and his heart more so.

During one of his fits, he thought he heard the door creak as it opened, but ignored it. Then there was a sudden heat as something dropped over his legs, making him shiver at the sensation of simply being warmed. Something settled down on the floor beside his head just as he passed out again.

In the morning, Chris' voice cracked as he moaned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. When he looked down, Wesker's jacket was lying over his legs, a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast sat on the table, and the Captain himself half-curled on the loveseat, almost asleep. The only indication that gave away his awareness was the icy blue eyes staring out from underneath a curtain of gel-free blond hair.


	12. 12

This chapter is a special chapter of Forthwith, you guys. I've written birthday ficlets for my dear friends and sisters Erin and DaggerArcadia; Erin had hers on the 5th of March, and both Dagger and I had ours on the 1st of April (haha, and I'm not even kidding with that one). So enjoy this extra long chapter, you guys!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Not a damn thing. I do this for fun, not profit. All creative rights to the characters and storyline belong to their original creators. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

(Erin)  
Chris wasn't exaggerating when he said that Wesker's blanket was the best blanket in the world. It may not have been the most manly blanket – far from it, actually – but Chris could really care less when he was wrapped up in _heaven._

Post-coitus, and after they cleaned up, Chris felt Wesker's eyes follow him in amusement as he went to the closet and stretched up on his toes to reach the black pashmina blanket on the top shelf. Wrapping the huge, form-fitting fabric around himself, he waddled back to the bed with the ends of it tickling his heels. Chris managed to roll himself under the covers without removing his arms from their warm prison and purred like a cat when Wesker's arm lifted to allow him closer and avoid having his arm squished between them.

Wesker didn't look too happy when Chris rubbed his nose in his chest, but he pushed aside thoughts of shoving Chris away when the younger man settled down. He was grateful that Chris wasn't a talker after sex, or even when he was tired. It was certainly a nice reprieve from his usual loquacious attitude.

"You have quite an affection for that blanket, Chris." He said, reaching to turn the nightstand lamp off.

Chris breathed a laugh into his chest and curled his legs in so his toes were covered by pashmina. "It's more than just an affection."

He wasn't talking about the blanket. But Wesker didn't need to know that.

* * *

(Erin)  
"Don't use your teeth." Albert instructed, gripping the short hairs on his consort's head to guide his movements. The younger man glared up at him, looking decidedly too feisty for Albert's taste, so he tightened his grip in warning.

Chris relented and went back to pleasuring the Prince, head bobbing slowly between pale thighs as he sucked.

Albert was satisfied with his actions and leaned back into his chair, his free hand supporting his chin delicately as he observed Chris.

The boy was a fine specimen, young and eager with a surprising stubbornness. That lean, tan body of his was a treat for all to see, clothed or not, but Albert was pleased to be the only one who saw him like this, submitting to his Prince and completely at his whim.

Flinching when Chris faltered and bit down on his length again, Albert cuffed the consort on the ear as he pulled back. "I thought I told you not to-"

Albert was interrupted when Chris ducked his head to lick the slightly red marks, soothing away both the sting and his anger.

* * *

(Erin)  
Trapped between a wall and Chris, Wesker struggled to breathe as he fidgeted, trying to find a comfortable spot to rest.

It had been Chris' idea to fuck in the STARS hallway closet, and while Wesker wouldn't normally have agreed, the temptation of forcing Chris against a wall in a place where anyone could walk in was too great for him to resist. That, and they hadn't done it against a wall yet, according to Chris; the marksman was determined to go at it with his Captain at every available opportunity on every available surface he could find.

Chris' latest choice was proving to be difficult and on the painful side, seeing as they barely fit into the tiny closet next to the brooms. Hunched over to avoid smacking their heads on the shelves, it took the men nearly ten minutes to undo their pants in the dark, and by then, Wesker was close to giving up.

"Are you sure you want to do this here? There's a perfectly fine closet in my apartment." Wesker suggested, grunting when Chris hiked himself further up his hips.

Chris nipped at his jaw, body undulating as much as possible in the cramped space. "Like doing it here." He mumbled.

A tan hand traced the lines of the blond's pectorals through the dark blue shirt, and Wesker stopped complaining.

* * *

(Erin)  
Boosting his nephew onto his shoulders, Chris held on to the boy's small legs as sticky fingers wove into his hair. He made the mistake of flinching and grunting when David tipped backwards, grabbing at his hair for support, and Claire looked up at her young son worriedly.

"Chris, be careful with him!" She fretted, watching David squeal and point towards the game stalls. The carnival had several groups of them, and this particular one had the shoot-out-the-stars game, located beside the balloon pop. Little David had taken after both his parents and his uncle, inheriting a fondness for guns and cowboy movies.

Chris looked back at her, smirking. "What's the matter, Claire? You were never this panicky before. Davey's fine."

"Yeah, because I never had a son sitting six feet off the ground! And don't call him Davey!"

Wanting to reach up and pluck her son off Chris' shoulders, Claire was held back by her husband's hand on her shoulder. "Leon!"

Leon gave her a reassuring pat and dragged her close, arms coming around to wrap around Claire's waist in a brief hug. "David will be fine." He said, waving when Chris went on ahead. "Chris won't let anything happen to him, you know that. Better than anyone, in fact."

Turning to distract his wife with kisses, Leon shielded Claire's eyes when Chris tripped and toppled over, their son landing safely in his arms and laughing at Uncle Chris' dirty face.

* * *

(Erin)  
Chris feels like he's in high school all over again, jabbering excuses to the teacher for why he was late. Only his teacher is Albert Wesker and it's his first day as a STARS officer, not a student.

The excuses just fly out of his mouth uncontrollably, ranging from how his aunt had phoned him and wouldn't stop talking to his Jeep refusing to start in the freezing cold of the underground garage under the apartment.

Wesker's eyes, concealed by his sunglasses and therefor unreadable, are locked on to his face, and it does nothing to calm Chris' nerves. The fact that he's listening intently, though, is a somewhat comforting notion. By the time he finishes, Chris' face is beet red under the scrutiny of his teammates, and he fidgets on the spot nervously.

There's a long pause in the office before Wesker sighs and waves him away. "Don't do it again." He says, and Chris almost bends to kiss the toes of the Captain's boots because he's so relieved.

Chris walks back to his desk with a bounce in his step, and aims to get every page of paperwork done for the day so Wesker doesn't find another reason to watch him squirm in terror.

* * *

(Erin)  
Chris managed to take in a calming breath through his nose as Wesker ran the tips of his fingers along Chris' exposed forearm, guiding it into a more proper position to hold the brand new Samurai Edge. Wesker was sure to keep his body distanced from Chris', seeing as though the rest of the team was also in the room, but the gentle persuasion of his hands reflected his desire to be closer.

Wesker left him to check on the others and dismissed them when he found they all had near perfect accuracy with their new guns. Jill lingered behind, eyes wandering over to Chris. He was certainly taking his time firing, she noted, but didn't bother commenting on it. She knew Wesker was going to try him out on one of the rifles soon, and getting too used to the Samurai Edge would mess with his ability to use it without wondering where all the mechanisms were.

When Jill finally took her leave, Chris counted the seconds under his breath before Wesker's arms wrapped firmly around his waist, pulling them together closely for the contact they both craved. To Chris' dismay, however, Wesker took the Samurai Edge away and replaced it with the semi-automatic rifle, the weapon heavy in his grip.

"Oh, come on, Wesker, I've been waiting for the past _hour_, and you still want me to shoot?" Chris complained, but he didn't fight Wesker's hands when they urged him to hold the rifle up.

Rolling his eyes, Chris held the gun to his face to see through the scope and fired off six shots perfectly before missing completely with the seventh. He swears up and down that Wesker's hands are to blame when they creep under the waistband of his pants.

* * *

(Erin)  
It's men versus women in the final round of the RPD's basketball championship, and the men from the teams that lost are all gathered on the sidelines to watch the game. Wesker knows their perverted minds aren't thinking about the ball being passed; in reality, they're watching Jill's chest with every step she takes.

Chris cheers her on as she manages to score again, whistling loudly between his fingers. She waves in acknowledgement and goes to talk to a new girl, one of the interns that Wesker has had his eye on for a while. She's proven herself a very capable medical officer, but Wesker needs to be sure she's physically fit before he approaches her with the opportunity to join STARS.

When the game starts up again, Wesker keeps his eye on the small teenaged girl as she weaves in and out of the considerable taller men on the court. She handles the ball easily and passes it to Jill, who gains a few more points for the team.

By the end of it, the women have completely decimated the men and are holding up their small trophy proudly. Chris jumps down the seats of the bleachers loudly and gives Jill a hug, excitably lifting her off her feet.

Wesker pays them no mind and does his best not to look suspicious as he slinks away to confront the intern. He'll be damned if anyone starts thinking he's a pervert, and it doesn't help that Chris takes a photo of Rebecca and slips it onto his desk the next morning.

* * *

(DaggerArcadia)  
Their new apartment had a spare room upstairs, and since they had no immediate plans for children, Rebecca let Billy pile up his things inside. He set up everything in there by himself, opening the boxes one by one and sliding the contents onto the labelled shelves. Rebecca couldn't tell the difference between the colours, but Billy always had a sharp eye for things.

The light table was turned on and a thin paper patterned with blueprints was placed over top. Billy brought out a vinyl mat, too, and lined it up on the side, bringing out his tools. He also hefted two tall stools into the room from the closet, sitting down with Rebecca.

And he began to work on his soldering.

Rebecca admired the focused look in his eyes as he traced the lines on the paper onto a sheet of coloured glass with a marker, mapping out the placement carefully so as not to waste too much glass. The cutting tool was next, but it didn't really look like it could cut anything, and she said so to Billy.

"It's not really a cutter," he said, lifting the glass to show her the line he'd dug into it. Pressing it against the top of his jean-clad thigh, he jammed his palm down on one side of the cut and snapped the glass clean off, leaving a perfect cut along the part he wanted. "See?"

Nodding, Rebecca kept up her observations, watching Billy repeat the process several times with different colours.

He had her help when the copper foil came out; his fingers were too bulky and blunt to reach into the tighter corners, so she pressed the copper in with her nails, the material being too sticky to handle with her bare fingertip. Every time she finished a piece of glass, Billy would take it back and solder it with an iron, sealing only the sides that he was currently attaching something to.

When Billy was done, a lampshade sat on the desk, pink and white and green shards of glass composing it neatly. A heart was soldered into the front, and Rebecca knew it was just for her.

* * *

(DaggerArcadia)  
"Billy, why is there a rock on the couch?"

Poking his head around the corner, Billy followed Rebecca's hand pointing to the lump on the couch cushions, dark on the white towel below it. He had to grin at her confused face.

"That's Winston, Beccy. Say hi, Winnie." Walking past his fiance, Billy scooped up the rock and took an almond from the bowl on the coffee table. He held it teasingly in front of the hole in the rock and smiled when a reptilian head popped out to inspect the nut.

Rebecca looked positively terrified when Billy held out the turtle to her, but she stuck her hands out anyway.

Winston was surprisingly heavy for such a small turtle, but Rebecca didn't care about that. The tiny little claws on its flippers... paws... whatever they were... made her shudder as they tickled her palm, but it wasn't those that bugged her the most.

Turtles were notorious for spreading salmonella, and though they were generally safe so long as you washed up properly, the medic lessons drilled into her head left her paranoid and nervous.

Sensing her discomfort, Billy rolled his eyes and took Winston back just as he began to walk around Rebecca's palms, setting the turtle back into the small aquarium in the corner of the room. Grabbing her hands, he brought her to the kitchen and turned the hot water on.

His hands were grabbed as Rebecca went crazy with the soap, scrubbing at both of their hands until they were red and itchy. "Rebecca, it's okay. You don't have to scrub so hard." Billy winced. "And now I'm bleeding."

Rebecca gasped when she realized she'd scrubbed hard enough to draw blood from Billy's calloused hands and dropped them.

"I'm sorry, Billy! I just..." She felt bad even when Billy's arms came around her, hands held out awkwardly to avoid getting her wet and bloody.

* * *

(DaggerArcadia)  
When the cloning pod beeped and flashed to indicate its completed processes, Albert looked up to see the newly formed Christopher waking from his slumber.

The brunet was thrashing against the bonds that gripped his wrists and ankles and the heart monitor on the screen was blaring in his ears, so Albert quickly rushed to the panel to shut it down. Inputting a series of commands, the cuffs unlatched and the pod doors opened before it had time to drain. The liquid inside rushed outwards and Christopher went with it, crashing to the floor before Albert could catch him.

Christopher's hands slipped on the floor as he coughed up thick, gelatinous goop that had been trapped in his lungs. He felt pathetically weak, barely able to hold himself up, and he ended up collapsing in a heap, legs curling upwards as he shivered. His nakedness only added to his humiliation, laid bare and weak and reminding him painfully of his days on the streets, though it came in flashes before his eyes. He remembered very little, his thoughts jumbled together.

Kneeling beside his cloned lover, Albert ran his hands over soaked brown hair until Christopher looked up.

His breath caught in his throat.

Christopher's eyes were wide and panicked, his pupils almost invisible within the deep blue of his eyes. They held so much emotion, so much fear and confusion and relief and an all-consuming lust that took over when he saw Albert. To Albert, Christopher looked feral, like a wild animal ready to strike at any given moment.

He was beautiful.

Recognizing Albert's face, Christopher stared at it for a moment before scrabbling to get up, clambering into the blond's arms that took him in willingly. He clutched at the hard lines created by the black patch of fabric, jumping when the other man's hands cupped his own.

Christopher struggled to find his voice, mouth opening and closing around words that didn't want to come. "A-Al..." He croaked, "Albert... _Albert._"

Hearing his own name brought a wave of relief crashing over Albert before he pulled Christopher down, devouring the soft lips that moved against his own. He wanted to be out of his suit and on his bed, taking Christopher as the brunet screamed into the pillows, but he couldn't let that happen just yet.

"Christopher, stop." The command was short and precise, effectively stopping the frantic thrusts Christopher was delivering against his hips. Albert took a shuddering breath before continuing. "Not now. You need to wait."

Christopher whined, not quite understanding with his muddled brain why Albert wouldn't give him what he want, so Albert trailed his fingers down his spine. He pressed one inside the crinkled entrance with his glove still on, and even with the cloning gel lubricating his entry, Christopher was painfully tight. With a single finger, Albert confirmed that the newly formed muscle and tissue would be too tender and delicate for him to defile just yet; he'd need to take his time over the course of a few days. The brunet writhed as he pulled it back out, speckled lightly with red.

Albert's metal hand came up to thumb Christopher's jawline soothingly, and he leaned forward to stand with Christopher securely in his arms.

"Just rest now, Christopher. You'll have what you want when you wake up."

* * *

(DaggerArcadia)  
Rebecca doesn't know what to think when three hot mouths are on her, one biting, one sucking, and one licking, but she knows she likes it and arches up to them.

Wesker takes her first, which surprises Rebecca the most. He's never laid more than a hand on her, but Rebecca thinks Chris has something to do with it; her birthday was a few months ago, and now that she's completely legal, Rebecca can do what she wants.

As he enters from behind, her body splayed out across his and bared for the other two men, Billy covers her mouth with his own and Chris sneaks a hand behind Wesker's head to do the same.

Rebecca is pleased to find that Wesker is being gentle. Normally, he's so rough with Chris that the poor man is limping for days afterwards, but he goes easy on her and she can hardly complain about it. Billy and Chris make it even easier on her, Billy kissing her flushed cheeks and running his hand over one breast while Chris laves the other with his tongue, feeling his way down to where Wesker is moving in and out of Rebecca.

Wesker comes after a painfully long time time, and Rebecca rolls right into Billy's arms, chest heaving as he cradles her to him. She barely registers Wesker moving away to dispose of the condom he's wearing, caught up with the warmth of Billy's body. Chris comes up behind her to give her a kiss, slow and deep and just like Wesker, then retreats so Billy can push her down into the sheets and Chris can ride Wesker's fingers.

When Billy presses inside, Rebecca purrs in contentment. Wesker may have been good, but Billy's the one she always craves. He unintentionally proves her point when he reaches down to rub circles around spots that make her come every time.

* * *

(DaggerArcadia)  
"I'm fine, Billy." Rebecca sniffled, and Billy ignored all of her whines. She kicked up a halfhearted fuss about being able to take care of herself, but Billy didn't take no for an answer and scooped her into his arms, carrying her all the way to the bedroom.

When he put her down, Billy had to smile at her indignant pout. She really did look adorable when she was sick; messy hair, feverish cheeks, and the tip of her nose a bright red.

"Relax, cupcake, I've got everything covered." Billy did not, in fact, have everything covered, but he couldn't let Rebecca know that. She'd flip a table. "Just lay back and relax. I'll make dinner, you can catch a few hours of sleep, and everything will be just fine."

Snuggling further into the warm blankets, Rebecca closed her eyes and nodded, allowing Billy to kiss her forehead before rolling over to sleep.

Billy left the room with a smile on his face, but as soon as he closed the door, it shifted into a nervous frown.

He didn't know how to cook. He didn't like cleaning. He abhorred doing dishes. He didn't see the point in buying cold medicine for both daytime and nighttime.

No, he had to do this. Rebecca was down and out, and if he couldn't get his act together, Rebecca would suffer more than she already was. He also knew he was blowing this way out of proportion, but it was his fault Rebecca got sick. He dragged her out into the rain to get snow cones, of all things.

Looking forlornly at the kitchen, Billy sighed before shuffling over to preheat the oven. He'd have to make it up to her somehow.

* * *

(DaggerArcadia)  
Rebecca loved dancing. She used to be terrible at it and she knew it, along with everyone else, but she didn't care. It was the one thing that kept her from being someone she wasn't.

It had started when she was first friends with Christopher, walking along the streets of New Paris. She was holding his hand when a song started to play from the store they were passing. Rebecca found her tiny feet stepping to the rhythm and she skipped along while tapping her toes to the ground. She tripped Christopher more than a few times on the way back to the orphanage, but hearing the delightful beat was well worth the irritated boy's attitude.

In the Galaxy Police Training Academy, Rebecca found a small group of boys and girls who taught her to dance properly, and she made a habit of listening to each song possible and learning the dance that went with it. She integrated it with her agility testing, and she flew through her exam with top results.

When she was given EVE to protect and pilot, Rebecca stopped everywhere she could when she felt down and out, and had EVE play old music over the stereo system. She danced through the whole ship, whirling around on her toes until she was dizzy and giggling.

Billy came to her, and her routine stayed the same, maybe even got a little bit better. He watched her spin and prance and leap just as she did while she fought and trained. She liked to let him watch, because until now, she'd never had an audience that took her into their arms and danced with her.

* * *

(DaggerArcadia)  
When they arrive in California for their honeymoon, Rebecca all but takes off toward the beaches, stopped only by Billy's hand guiding her to the hotel, first. She loves the beach, has only been there a few times, and she digs out her bathing suit to change in the middle of their cozy suite with Billy still watching her. He caresses the silky skin lightly, keeping it mostly chaste, and then pulls away to let her finish up. He swaps his boxers for trunks and carries their parasol while Rebecca takes the towels, slipping her sunglasses on before putting Billy's on for him.

The beach is a ten minute walk from the hotel, and they spend another ten trying to pick a spot away from the crowd. They find one with only a few families in sight and Billy stabs the parasol into the ground while Rebecca lays out their towels.

Rebecca itches to run into the ocean and go look for sea life, but she allows Billy to rub sunscreen into her exposed skin. His fingers dip under the fabric occasionally to mimic his earlier actions, and it makes her wish the families on the beach were gone and it was just the two of them. She returns the favour and sneaks a hand down his trunks as she slathers his back with lotion, giggling when he jumps from the cold.

Finally ready, Rebecca wades into the water while Billy stays behind to soak up the sun, letting the waves splash higher and higher up her legs as she goes deeper. Over the course of an hour, she finds several sea stars, a few tiny fish, and almost steps on a baby shark before it swims away.

Rebecca gathers as many seashells as she can that she finds interesting and takes them up to the shore where Billy lays, reading one of his mystery novels. She sets them over the sand to dry out and purrs as she fits herself against Billy's side.

The beach is always nice, but Rebecca can't wait until they go back to the hotel. The bed calls to her even from the beach.


	13. 13

Another chapter down!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Not a damn thing. I do this for fun, not profit. All creative rights to the characters and storyline belong to their original creators. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

(Requested by DaggerArcadia)  
There's something tickling him as Billy sleeps, an itchy flutter on his calves and thighs. He ignores it and goes back to sleep, not caring about it and not _going_ to care about it until the sun is out.

When Billy wakes, he scrunches up his face and extends an arm out, groping around the bed until he can find Rebecca's tiny frame. He pulls her against him and inhales the sweet minty scent of her shampoo radiating off her hair before she giggles.

"Good morning, sweetie." She coos, nuzzling has head farther under his chin. She pecks his lips after she turns herself around and gets out of bed, Billy's eyes watching the appealing curve of her bottom before she flounces out of the bedroom with his t-shirt and panties.

Billy turns his head into the pillow for a moment before gearing himself up to face the day. He swings his legs over the edge of the bed, but pauses as he feels something wrong with his ass. He squirms experimentally, pondering on the feel that is not quite like the sheets on the bed, and pulls the covers away to reveal his bare legs and the pair of baby pink panties barely covering his important bits. There's even a little bow on the front hem.

"_Rebecca!_" He yells, hearing his girlfriend's answering laughter, and storms out of bed to chase her down.

Billy is grinning by the time he finally catches her, diving over the coffee table to pin her against the thankfully soft couch. They're both laughing hysterically, and suddenly Billy could care less about what they're wearing, so long as it comes off within the next thirty seconds.

* * *

(Requested by DaggerArcadia)  
Billy can't tell which way is up and which way is down anymore, too lost in the feeling of friction from denim jeans to care. His one hand grabs the couch tightly while the other scrabbles across Chris' bare chest as they frot almost uncontrollably. He pants and gasps for breath when Chris adjusts himself so one leg is planted on the floor, giving him some purchase and making the motions of his hips that much more powerful.

For once, Chris is the one with his legs spread, but only because he was desperately horny and Billy was already lying on the couch. He runs his blunt fingertips along the lines Billy's pectorals make through his tank top, dragging moans and bucking hips out of the older man. One particular buck sends him sprawling across Billy, shocks cascading down his spine as Billy grinds upwards.

Boosting himself up with one arm, Billy kisses him full on the mouth and uses his other hand to firmly stroke down his back. It's almost like a massage for Chris, but the pleasure shooting through him won't allow him to relax, not yet.

The fingers are sure and put even pressure on whatever skin they come in contact with, drifting downwards to dig under Chris' waistband. They rub circles around his tail bone before going lower, and Chris gasps into Billy's mouth as he trips over the edge.

Billy is left to fend for himself for a few minutes, Chris too putty-like to do much more than move an inch or two. Fortunately, he weighs enough that Billy can glean all the friction he needs from their pants to bring himself off, Chris being a rather large dead weight on his chest as he lays back down to catch his breath.

* * *

(Requested by DaggerArcadia)  
Oh god, he loved her. He really loved her. Billy the convict loved Rebecca the space officer.

He was screwed.

Picking at the collar of his vest, Billy watched Rebecca worry over the controls in the cockpit, having almost no idea on how to work half of them, himself. She flipped a few switches, pressed a few buttons... it was simple work for her, and Billy loved her for her great intelligence, her great empathy, her great...

...she bent over to pull a lever...

...her great ass...

"I love your ass." He blurted, and immediately slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide as they both froze, Rebecca turning around to look at him oddly.

"...what?"

Cheeks heating up, Billy stuttered nervously, "U-uh, no, I didn't mean... Not that I don't... Ah..."

He flinched when Rebecca came closer to him, expecting a slap and a stinging red mark on his face, but all that came was a small laugh. "Calm down, Billy. What are you trying to say?

Clearing his throat, Billy looked away before mumbling incoherently.

"I love you."

* * *

(Requested by DaggerArcadia)  
It was a curious thing, being surrounded by three older men. Rebecca had done this before, with both Chris and Billy, so the addition of Wesker threw her for a loop. She was used to the blunt, calloused hands of the younger men, and Wesker's thin, smooth fingers proved to be a refreshing change.

He hadn't kissed her, Rebecca knew; Chris had a surprisingly possessive attitude when it came to the Captain, and wouldn't let anyone kiss him. Wesker obviously had no complaints, busying his mouth with Chris' constantly, and neither did the other two.

It was far too entrancing watching them kiss before their eyes.

There was a certain fluidity in the way Chris and Wesker moved together, Rebecca observed, similar to what she and Billy had, but with more years behind it. They worked together, moved as one complete unit as they trapped Rebecca between them. Wesker held her from behind and soothed his hands up and down her stomach softly, Billy pressing kisses into her scorching forehead and stroking the side of her breast with his left hand as Chris lapped at her core.

Billy's right hand went unaccounted for until Wesker suddenly jerked against her, and she suddenly knew where it was and exactly what it was doing.

She writhed against the two men, Wesker calming her with whispers of nothing in her hair and Billy with his hand over her heart, feeling it beat against her chest. The blood rushing in her ears thrummed in time with Chris' slow licks, and finally stopped when he raised himself to nip at Billy's lips. Wesker watched with a feral look in his eyes and demanded Chris' attention when he left Billy's mouth, stealing the breath out of the marksman as he tasted Rebecca on his tongue.

* * *

(Requested by Lastglances)  
Grunting as Wesker plowed him into the table in the dark room, Chris stared upwards at the shelves. Bottles of probably poisonous or at least harmful chemicals clattered above his head in time with Wesker's thrusts inside him, preventing Chris from really enjoying the experience. Paranoia was not particularly a helpful thing to have when one is having sex.

Grabbing the edge of the table, Chris adjusted himself in the awkward angle he was at, shoulders pressed against the wall while the majority of his back had nothing but Wesker's hands to lean on. He shifted his legs and boosted them up a little, wrapping them tightly around the Captain's waist and pulling him in further. His back was burning, had been for the last twenty minutes, but the burn he felt when Wesker shoved inside him was more distracting.

Chris sat up as far as he could, groping around in the dim red light until he found the waistband of Wesker's pants, and pulled them down enough to shove a hand underneath the black underwear. Wesker growled warningly, but he continued his rough exploration of Wesker's ass, bringing their lips together for a messy kiss as he slipped a finger inside.

Wesker certainly felt different on the inside when he was moving, Chris concluded, slowly dragging his finger in and out until he could fit another beside the first. It was harder to move his fingers and find his prostate at the odd angle. The Captain was snarling, pounding him harder, but it did nothing to deter Chris from moving his fingers faster to match Wesker's pace.

Suddenly, Wesker's hips jerked hard as Chris' finger grazed his spot, jarring the bottles on the shelves again. Chris found himself being picked up and carried as the shelf came loose, spilling the objects everywhere. He started to look back to see the mess, but Wesker dropped him onto his cock and Chris muffled a loud groan in the Captain's shirt, instead.

* * *

(Requested by Lastglances)  
Christopher wasn't happy with Albert's smug grin, nor was he happy with the length in his ass and his hands tied behind his back. He tried not to groan when Albert moved his hips in small circles, teasing him to the point that he wanted to strangle his boss and lover with his feet.

The large passenger compartment of the limo is half seating and half carpeted floor, and Albert picked it out for several reasons.

Firstly, the carpeting was plush and soft, not the type to give rug burn easily. It made it comfortable for his knees as he pushed inside Christopher, and also saved the younger man's back from pain as he writhed and squirmed below him.

The interior was also completely soundproof, so when Albert ground his hips and scraped his length against Christopher's prostate, the scream was for him and him alone.

The third reason, and probably Albert's favorite, was the place the vehicle would be parked once they stopped. It was three levels down in Lacuna's parking garage, and there were a surprising number of speed bumps. When they passed over each one, Albert made sure to hold Christopher in a seated position in his lap. The bumps bounced the young man on his cock roughly, and with each motion, Christopher's breath hitched and his nails scratched red lines that almost bled into Albert's back.

When they arrived, Christopher ignored him as they went back up to the penthouse, but as soon as they stepped out, he was claiming the blond's lips and begging for another round in their bedroom.

* * *

(Requested by DaggerArcadia)  
Grimacing at the cloud of dust that escaped the closet, Wesker dropped another sloppily closed box onto the bedroom floor and opened it. Christmas decorations and newspaper balls were all that he found, so he closed the box again and shoved it aside, reaching for another. Chris observed him from the bed, having been banned from helping out ("You talk too much, and you take things out of the boxes but don't put them back."), and Wesker could feel his curious eyes on him as he opened the next box.

After the eighth, Wesker dragged a long, thin box out of the closet and undid the fasteners on the sides. When he pulled off the lid, he honestly didn't know what to think.

A pressed blazer rested on top of a pair of slacks, both printed with a terribly cliché, heavily contrasting pattern of zebra stripes. The contrast alone was enough for Wesker to want to shield his eyes, but the delighted look on Chris' face when he unearthed such a ghastly nightmare had him staring at the younger man with slight disgust.

"Oh man, I was wondering where that went!" Chris exclaimed, hopping off the bed to pluck the starched outfit from the box.

Wesker shook his head. "You're not seriously thinking of keeping that monstrosity, are you?"

Chris frowned and held the blazer and slacks to his chest protectively. "Of course! I was planning on wearing it whenever I went clubbing with Sheva." He held up the clothes for inspection, ignoring Wesker's furrowing brow.

He was also completely oblivious when Wesker reached for his taser and Chris' lighter.


	14. 14

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Not a damn thing. I do this for fun, not profit. All creative rights to the characters and storyline belong to their original creators. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

(Requested by Siberian74)  
Wesker had long since grown used to Chris' strange habits and mischievous ways, but the man still continued to surprise him many times.

Chris had called him while drunk, slurring his speech as he professed his love for Wesker ("More than puppies," apparently) and simultaneously told his sister to shut up and put the damn nail polish away. She sounded drunk, as well, and Wesker had shaken his head and hung up, ignoring the multiple calls that came in until they stopped.

The next morning, when Chris failed to show up for work, Wesker told Barry he was in charge of the office before marching out to the parking lot and hopping into his Mercedes. Chris' apartment was silent when he arrived, and knocking did nothing to provoke a response, so Wesker took his spare key that Chris had given him in case of emergency and let himself in.

The apartment was a mess, Wesker observed as his foot nudged a beer can out of the way. Paper plates and nail polish bottles were everywhere, and the overpowering stench of the coloured liquid made his nose wrinkle in disdain.

Chris's sister lay face down on the floor, her soft, even breaths lifting a corner of a piece of paper. Wesker took note of the camera in her hand, but paid her no mind as he stepped over her body.

Her brother fared no better, sprawled out on the couch as he was, but the confident image Chris had conjured for himself was somewhat dampened by the large stuffed bear beneath his head. The brunet shifted in his sleep, rubbing his head in the soft fur.

Wesker gently pried the camera from Claire's hand and turned the flash off before taking a photo of both siblings, wanting to save the pictures as potential blackmail. Slipping the camera into one of his vest's pockets, he went over to the stereo system by the TV and took out a pair of earplugs.

With his ears securely blocked, Wesker cranked the volume on the stereo before turning the power on.

* * *

(Gift for Lastglances)  
When he wakes up in the morning, Christopher expects to see Albert's body facing away from him, covers slipping down to his waist to reveal the long lines of his pale back. Christopher would run his hands down the knobs of his spine and follow the path down as he presses his lips to the back of Albert's neck.

He did _not_ expect to see the black and white face of Rodrigo, nor the tongue that darted out mercilessly to lick everywhere it could reach.

Sputtering and waving his arms in alarm, Christopher grimaced as Rodrigo's tongue tried worming its way into his mouth, snorting when it migrated to his left nostril. He pushed at the overeager dog until Rod gave up and bounced on the bed excitedly. Jean came up from behind Christopher and laid his head on his side, not even bothering to fight the onslaught of kisses now targeted on the white dog.

As Christopher wiped at his nose and cleaned his gums with a Kleenex, Albert walked in to observe the living pile on the bed, still dressed in his housecoat. Christopher glared at him over Rodrigo's back, avoiding the rear end about to collide with his face.

"I thought we agreed not to let the dogs in this early?" he mumbled hoarsely, voice cracking as he plucked Jean from his spot, setting him down on his lap when he sat up. Rodrigo abandoned them both to run over to his Papa.

Albert bent to pick up the terrier, rubbing his fingers into the short dark fur. "We did. But since you refused to wake up..." He left the sentence unfinished and set Rodrigo on the bed. Running his fingers through Christopher's sleep-tousled hair, he planted a kiss to his forehead before letting the dogs continue their assault on the younger man.

* * *

Frowning at the overflowing laundry hamper, Wesker watched as a sock dangled off the edge before dropping to the floor and joining several pieces of underwear. He wondered, in the back of his mind, why he was regularly sleeping with (he refused to say dating) such a slob, but pushed the thought aside.

Chris' young, firm body was muscled tightly, appealing and beautiful to look at even when neither of them were in the mood. Chris was also in possession of a rather substantial length, neither too small nor sickeningly large. He was eager to use it, too, jumping at any chance to take control of Wesker for a while.

Wesker bent down to pick up the fallen clothing, not hearing the purposefully light footsteps behind him. With the carpet muting them, he was none the wiser when Chris raised his hand, spreading his fingers wide in preparation for the slap that descended moments later on Wesker's vulnerable ass.

The resounding slap made Chris crack up with laughter, clutching his sides at Wesker's indignant look on his face. His cheeks hurt when he finished, but Chris felt it was worth the pain to see Wesker turn around, pale eyebrows furrowed and eyes gleaming with frustration, irritation, and a dark lust.

Wait a minute...

"Wes-" Chris was cut off when Wesker turned suddenly, clutching his face as he was shoved towards his bed.

When they both landed, Chris regretted buying such a small bed frame just because of a lack of money. The double bed was barely enough for him to sleep on, let alone fuck, but Chris decided not to complain when Wesker ground his hips down, clad only in his black boxer briefs. As Chris moved his own hips in response, he leaned his head back over the other side of the bed to allow Wesker access to his neck, clutching at the blond's forearms as he licked a hot path from his collar to his stubble-speckled chin.

It wasn't long before Chris was raring to go, but he was too caught up in the fact that Wesker was being frisky and horny to be of much help. Wesker took it upon himself to shed his underwear and pull Chris' down far enough to fully expose the flesh that lay beneath.

Wesker admired the way Chris' cock lay curved against his abdomen, the tip weeping and fluid dribbling down the side slowly. Taking one of Chris' sensitive nipples in his mouth, Wesker reached back and aligned himself before sinking down on the length completely, body curving to match Chris' desperate arch for more.

* * *

(Requested Lastglances)  
Albert shudders as Christopher drives into him with hard, steady thrusts, wanting to move in return. He's trapped between his lover and the hard walls of the hot tub, hands holding his own hips while Christopher's keep them there. It's round three for them today, and Albert feels like he's about to pass out from exhaustion and a skyrocketing temperature, but Christopher's nips and bites sting his neck every time he starts to lose it.

Christopher puts deliberate pressure on his prostate, only to change his angle and take it away when Albert pushes for more. It's annoying him to no end, but he puts up with it for now, concentrating on keeping his mouth shut firmly. He knows if he opens it, he'll end up begging and pleading, and that just won't do a thing for his pride.

Tightening his hands around Albert's, Christopher notices the stubborn look on his face and ups the pace, water sloshing around and between them with every movement. He's determined to push Albert to his limits, make a new one if he can, and if that means fucking Albert red and raw, he'll do anything to achieve it.

The harsh thrusts inside Albert make him clench his fingers, nails biting into the skin of his hips. The water burns the scratches, but it's nothing compared to the scalding heat inside his body. When Christopher speeds up, nearing his release, Albert's mouth opens to gasp for air, no longer caring about his pride. He speaks nonsensically as Christopher shoves him further into the side of the hot tub, grinding deep before he's coming inside.

Albert is limp when Christopher boosts him over the side, still lodged in his ass, but he springs to life when Christopher withdraws and replaces his cock with his tongue. The slick muscle darts out to lap up the seed dribbling from his abused hole, and Albert has to reach down and brace his hands on the floor to keep himself up. His arms are shaking, and it's visible beneath his gel-free hair that now hangs in front of his face and clings to his neck.

Christopher pries him open with one hand while jerking him off with the other, thumb dipping alongside his tongue. Albert can't tell which is louder: his heartbeat drumming in his ears, or the broken shout that escapes his throat.

* * *

(Requested by Siberian74)  
Chris is a man who repays good things, no matter how trivial. He proves it by being at his Captain's side when no one else would stay.

It started with the mission going as planned; Bravo team would surround the first floor of the abandoned warehouse and ambush any suspects that came through the entrances, while Alpha team would drop in from the helicopter and flush them out. The large gang under suspicion of murder, however, proved to be more resourceful than they thought.

When Alpha team split up into pairs, Chris strayed away from the Captain for just a minute, long enough to be grabbed from behind. A knife was pressed up against his throat, but his startled yelp was loud enough to alert Wesker. He came running upstairs to find Chris being held hostage near one of the large windows, obviously wanting to thrash against his captor.

Wesker had raised his gun, only to be shot himself by a thug hidden behind a pillar. Chris watched him fall back down the flight of stairs, heard the dull thud as Wesker's head hit the concrete wall, and the silence that followed was unbearable.

Chris snapped unexpectedly, and after that, he remembers nothing but shouts and gunshots and his teammates begging for him to stop, even though the pleas fall on deaf ears. He won't forget the sound of the ambulance sirens wailing, nor the sight of Wesker's wheat-blond hair dyed a morbidly beautiful shade of red. The doctors tell him that they've placed Wesker in a medically induced coma until they're sure no brain damage has occurred, and after multiple scans and observations, they reverse the coma.

Chris clenches Wesker's hand tightly in his own and hopes he doesn't have to play the waiting game much longer.

* * *

(Requested by DaggerArcadia)  
Rebecca thrashes in Christopher's arms, kicking and screaming as Billy puts his hand-to-hand skills to the test against Albert. She hears Christopher's amused chuckle, holding her easily as he observes the two men on the floor below, and feels like she needs to do something different.

When Billy lands a good hit on Albert and Christopher looks down at them in concern, Rebecca takes the chance to slip her leg into position and ram the heel of her boot into Christopher's kneecap. She feels his patella give under the pressure and hears his scream as he lets go to hold his leg in agony. When he's down, Rebecca turns and kicks the side of his head, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Christopher's eyes belie the pain and hatred he feels, but Rebecca has less pain and more hatred, and so tackles him down when he tries to get up. He grabs at her wrists in an effort to keep her still, even though he knows it's futile; Rebecca's clawing is too erratic to stop from this angle.

Rebecca is thrown off the man by Albert, come to save his partner in crime, and almost goes in to try and kill him, too. Billy appears and holds his gun up in warning, but he's too late to stop Christopher from firing Albert's gun at Rebecca. She barely has time to move and feels the slide of thick blood down her cheek and neck, concealing the burn in her skin. Her ear hurts, too, and knows it's been nicked.

Albert and Christopher retreat, abandoning half of their loot in favour of getting the brunet to their ship safely, and Billy escorts her back to their own, guns emptied of their plasma charges.

When Rebecca sits as Billy cleans up her face and ear, she clenches her fists and draws more blood with her nails.

"Next time," She swears, gritting her teeth when a nano patch is placed over her cheek, another on her ear, "I'll get him next time, even if I have to kill him. He's not getting away, neither of them are."

Billy says nothing, merely holding her hand as he applies a final patch to her hand.

* * *

(Requested by Lastglances)  
Christopher spends the few minutes riding the elevator up to the penthouse in complete silence, soaked to the bone from the rain. He's been thinking on his walk around the Manhatan streets about his life, about Albert's, and about where he stands in Albert's eyes. His fingers itch to press into the bruise on his face, knowing the skin on his cheekbone is already black. It hurts when he blinks, so he's sure it'll stick around for a few days.

When he closes his eyes and rests against the railing, Christopher can see Albert's metal fist coming at him again, almost striking him in the eye. The feel of the skin breaking under his fist comes back and he jolts up when the pain is almost tangible.

When the doors open to the penthouse, Christopher drips a path of water into the living room. His first thought is to go to his own room and fetch a change of clothes before crawling into the bed he rarely uses, but upon seeing the figure on the couch, he changes his mind.

Albert is uncharacteristically slouched in the corner of the sofa, a bottle of Christopher's cheap beer in one hand while the other rests over his eyes. There's a deep frown on his face, one Christopher only sees when Albert is stressed beyond his limits, and his lips are pressed together tightly.

Christopher wanders over after kicking off his shoes by force of habit, stopping a foot away to look down at his lover. When Albert pulls his hand away to stare back up at him, Christopher can't remember why he was angry in the first place, only that he's sorry and that Albert obviously feels the same way.

Taking the bottle from Albert, Christopher sets it on the table and guides him upwards, keeping his hands on the older man in case he decides to fall. When he's sure Albert's steady, Christopher takes him by the hand to the master bedroom, pushing him down to sit on the edge.

Albert helps him undress, peeling the clothes away like it's a shed skin, and sits back to watch Christopher do the same to him. He moves toward the pillows and Christopher crawls after him, straddling his waist and encouraging Albert's wandering hands with kisses to his jaw.

Christopher takes everything slowly, but there's surprisingly little foreplay. Albert sits up just as Christopher sinks down, engulfing him in a heat not present on the rest of his body. They're both thrown for a loop at the sensations, and Christopher hasn't even taken him in completely, though it feels as though he has. Their breaths come shakily, hot against each other's mouths.

Albert's metal hand comes up to stroke the marred skin on Christopher's cheek, hurt when he flinches away in fear. He makes to draw back, but his hand is grabbed and cupped against his face by Christopher's. The desperation in Christopher's eyes is haunting, amazingly beautiful, and Albert traces the blackened skin with his thumb before Christopher tightens his grip and clenches his eyes shut.

They don't know how long they spend there, lost in the moment, but when Albert finally presses his lips to Christopher's and feels his body quake in response, he wants nothing more than to stay lost for the remainder of his life.

* * *

(Requested by Spacefragments)  
Chris had to admit that Leon looked almost too feminine to be normal, and the fact that he looked good in clothing of the opposite gender didn't dissuade him.

Leon happened to be quite the accidental model when he wasn't off on a mission, body swaying with each step. Chris had once joked that Leon would look fantastic in a dress, and he'd earned a middle finger and the couch later that night. But as he stared into the kitchen at home with his jaw slack, it appeared Leon had taken him up on the challenge.

The first thing Chris noticed was the fishnet stockings, almost mesh-like with the close weave. When Leon had his back turned to him, he spotted a thick black line that ran up the backs of Leon's legs and led down to a pair of shiny black heeled boots, wincing at the daring height Leon's heels were elevated at.

Tearing his eyes away, Chris continued his journey upwards, admiring the pale, gently curve of his ass that was framed by a tiny black thong. Above that was a corset, also black with bits of grey and silver in the seams. There were no ties in the back, leading Chris to believe that Leon had fastened it from the front.

The final accessories were the thin leather collar around Leon's neck and a pair of black vinyl gloves that went just past his elbows and touched his biceps.

Chris licked his lips when Leon turned towards him, and promised himself that he would issue Leon challenges more often.

* * *

(Requested by USWeasilgirl)  
"_Excuse_ me?"

"I don't know why I can't just wear what I did before. It seems like a waste to buy new clothes if I'm only going to be like this for a week."

Rebecca shoved a small pile of new clothes into Billy's – _Bailey's_ – arms and pushed her in the direction of the changing rooms. "Because it's going to be too big and you're end up... showing."

"Who says that's a bad thing?"

Shoving Bailey into the small room, Rebecca ignored the smirk and triumphant laugh that emitted from her now-female partner. She made to turn and sit at the bench, but before the small doors could close, a hand reached out and yanked her backwards into the room.

"Bi-" Rebecca caught herself before she mixed up names again, "Bailey, what are you doing?"

"I need help," Bailey stated, holding up a scrap of cloth vaguely shaped like a strapless bra. "I was a guy yesterday, remember? Sure, I know how to get these things off, but I don't know how to put them back on."

Rebecca's cheeks burned hot at the idea of helping Bailey with her undergarments, but she sighed and showed her how to put one on properly. Bailey's hands wandered to her hips while Rebecca adjusted the nylon bra, sure that Rebecca wouldn't mind so much if she received a massage later on as a thank you.


	15. 15

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Not a damn thing. I do this for fun, not profit. All creative rights to the characters and storyline belong to their original creators. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

(Side Note: William is Billy)  
The scorching desert heat was too much for Rebecca to handle in the daytime, making her feel weak and listless, but at night, it was the perfect temperature for her to wander the palace. Carefully maneuvering herself out of William's embrace, the Princess pulled on a robe and left the room.

Used to the wooden walls and dark furnishings of her northern country, Rebecca was always observing the polished stone walls and embroidered silks lining the corridors. Albert's palace was flat and widely spread, and though she had been here a handful of times before, Rebecca found herself getting lost.

One of the hallways was quite lavish, leading Rebecca to believe the Prince's and King's chambers located somewhere among the rooms. She took her time admiring the tapestries and coats of arms and fine pieces of armour that she passed. The further she walked, the more interesting pieces she found.

To her left, a curtain blocked off a room, something that was missing on all the others. Curiosity got the better of her again, so Rebecca quietly held part of the curtain out of the way so she could see. Her other hand quickly flew to her mouth.

Two bodies were locked together in an intimate dance, one pale and the other quite tanned. Rebecca recognized them as Prince Albert and his consort. Chris, she believed his name was, lay over the Prince, completely covering his body from view.

Pursing her mouth, Rebecca closed the curtain and made her way back to her room. William hadn't budged an inch, but when the Princess slipped back into the bed, his arms came around to bring her closer. He smiled down at her, and Rebecca couldn't resist stretching up to kiss him, initiating an intimate dance of her own.

* * *

(Requested by DaggerArcadia)  
Rebecca curled her legs around Billy's waist comfortably, nuzzling her nose under Billy's chin. He chuckled and wrapped his arms tighter around her chest. It felt amazing to be on vacation, one that was long overdue, and Rebecca was glad she could bring Billy along for very little expense.

Drawing circles into the firm abdomen, Rebecca giggled as the muscles beneath them twitched and Billy's hands played with the ties holding her bikini top closed. The knot came undone and Rebecca raised herself up so Billy could kiss the exposed flesh.

Billy sat up and brought Rebecca with him, hoisting her up to lick at a rosy nipple and knead her other breast gently in his hand. When she arched up against him, threading fingers in his hair, he dragged his teeth lightly across the raised area until she urged him downwards, gripping his hair tightly.

Complying, Billy nibbled a path down south, nipping at the skin of her stomach and soothing the bites with his tongue.

Rebecca was _definitely_ glad she'd taken him along.

* * *

(Requested by Lastglances)  
Albert thinks Christopher looks beautiful in the white satin wedding gown, contrasting with his darker skin tone, but knows that he will look better out of it once they reach the bedroom. He sets Christopher down on the bed and assaults his lips with his own, tongues tangling to get reacquainted with one another. They followed the tradition of not seeing each other until the day of the wedding, and with the pent up frustration they exuded, Albert's glad they waited patiently.

The open back of Christopher's dress provides an ample amount of flesh for him to explore, but Albert wants more, so he pushes up the skirt (thankfully it's not overly poofy) and stares in awe.

A pair of white silk panties barely clothes Christopher's erection, the outline clear against the shimmering fabric. Albert looks up in disbelief and finds Christopher's face turned away, cheeks an appealing shade of pink.

"I-I like the way it feels against my bottom, okay?" He blurts, earning a devious smirk from Albert. He shudders when a finger slips under the edge of the panties, running along the sensitive skin of his groin as he presses a kiss to the inside of Christopher's knee.

"I'll bet it does."

Albert licks a wet path down his raised thigh, continuing when he hits the silk. His tongue is hot and moist through the panties and Christopher can't help but squirm. The fingers wander lower and nudge the puckered entrance they find, pressing in dry at the same moment Albert's tongue reaches the head of his dick. Christopher chokes on his own spit and lurches forward to scrabble at Albert's naked back (when did he get rid of his tux, he wonders), the lengthy gloves he's wearing providing him protection from his nails.

Relenting, Albert draws away and flips Christopher over. The young man thinks he's going to remove the underwear and lifts his hips expectantly, but is surprised when they're merely pulled out of the way. Something slick and hard is pressing into him and Christopher's mind goes blank when Albert sinks into him fully. He huffs a few times before raising himself up on his arms, pushing back until Albert finally starts thrusting.

His cock has never felt so deliciously hot, though that's probably the warming lotion Albert had slathered onto himself. Albert makes sure to keep the panties bunched up in his hand, keeping Christopher's erection pinned to his stomach and driving the younger man insane.

The panties make for quite a sight, and when he leans back to observe the way they rub against his length every time he plows into Christopher, Albert decides they'll keep them and use them often. Christopher's pleads for more are enough of an affirmation.

* * *

(Requested by DaggerArcadia)  
Chris ignored the pain in his side as he knelt down, brought to his knees by the warrior of the northern Princess. He panted for breath and finally looked up at the superior grin that met him. The man held his blade up up his mouth, Chris' blood wetting the razor edge, and dragged his tongue across the liquid, lapping it up in such a way that Chris could not look away.

A hand was held out to him and Chris took it reluctantly, hauled up onto his feet. The crowd cheered for them both, and they looked up to see their respective lovers. Princess Rebecca looked satisfied with the outcome, gazing at her warrior with pride, but Chris knew he was going to be punished when he saw the clenched jaw of his Prince.

Chris recalled the warrior's name, William, and exited the arena with him, striking up casual conversation. Chris was more than willing to continue, but William suddenly turned on him as soon as they were out of sight and shoved the other consort up against the stone walls.

"What are you-" William's mouth on his cut Chris off, and the nimble hands that wormed their way under his armour were quick to dispose of the metal plates. His nipples were pinched and rolled mercilessly as William's hips pressed into his own, places that only the Prince has dared to touch. He moaned and arched into the touch anyway; he'll more than likely be punished for the match later, so what was one act of infidelity when Albert has practically declared him a free man?

William snatched Chris' legs up and hiked them over his shoulders when Chris sat on a bench, grinding down as the brunet jerked upwards. He went to kiss him again but was impeded by Chris' fingers pressing against his lips. William raised an eyebrow but took them into his mouth anyway, sucking hard and laving his tongue between the digits.

Chris' eyes roll back into his head, and thoughts of Albert mingle with thoughts of William.

* * *

(Sequel to the previous ficlet)  
Chris was correct in his assumption when he said Albert would punish him for his short affair with William, but not in the way he'd originally thought.

With his hands strung up with the hanging tassels of a curtain, Chris yanked down on them and groaned when Albert knelt down before him to kiss the dark trail of short hairs on his abdomen. The Prince went lower still, fingering the band of red silk wrapped tightly around his cock and balls, and his tongue darted out to lap up the fluid beading at the tip.

Arching into the touch, Chris halfheartedly tried to pull his arms back down, but knew it was futile. The Prince was an expert at knot tying, and put those skills to use when manipulating Chris into his favourite position. If Chris was bound or restrained in any way, he noticed that Albert was always quite eager to touch him everywhere possible.

Albert abruptly took him fully into his mouth, earning a startled moan from the brunet. He dipped his fingers in the bowl of oil beside him and dragged them up Chris' thigh until he reached the puckered entrance he was looking for. Chris sighed as he pressed two inside, the angle changing slightly when Albert pulled his mouth away to stand. He turned his head to taste himself on the blond, but Albert kept his lips just out of reach, smirking.

"Don't forget you're being punished, Chris." He reminded, licking the shell of his consort's ear. "The Princess offered up this way of torture, and she guaranteed that by the end of it, you'd be begging for mercy. Let's see if she was right, hmm?"

Sucking on the flesh just below Chris' ear, Albert felt him swallow before he curled his fingers inwards, locating the spot that drove Chris wild. As expected, the young man gasped and bucked his hips, trying to force his fingers deeper, but Albert impeded the motions by pinning Chris to the wall with the weight of his own body.

Chris felt the fingers rub torturous circles around his prostate and keened, bowing his head to both rest his neck and observe the muscles in Albert's forearm. They jumped with every sharp jab from his fingers, the digits controlling Chris' amount of pleasure like a puppeteer at a theatre.

The pressure inside him that usually coiled in his chest was building quickly, but as soon as the moment came to release, Chris felt a brief, powerful wave of ecstasy crash over him before he felt the same agony he'd been feeling for the last half hour. Nothing came out like he'd expected. He suspected that the red silk binding him tightly below was the cause of it, and threw his head back when Albert's fingers continued their assault.

Another dry orgasm wracked Chris' body after a short time, and the pleasure inside him was slowly morphing into an unbearable pain. He was beginning to see the actual punishment disguised under the ministrations, thrashing as Albert fingered him mercilessly. The mouth on his neck wandered from place to place on his collarbone, dotting his skin with dark blemishes.

Pain was becoming more and more dominant in Chris' body, growing until his eyes stung and he had to stop moving altogether. Albert's fingers were still abusing his prostate, and finally he could take no more, biting through his lip and drawing blood.

"P-please... _please_... dammit, _stop already_!" He begged. Teeth sunk into his neck and pulled at the skin briefly before the fingers were pulling out. Chris had a moment to breathe before Albert was unravelling the silk strap, pulling at the swollen length that had been denied and ignored.

"Tell me you won't allow another person to touch you like this. I want your word." Albert demanded, tightening his grip harshly. Chris winced and nodded, swearing as told when the Prince unbound his arms from above his head, only to collapse onto his knees as Albert eased his hand gently along his length and a real orgasm struck him hard. The impact jarred him, but the teeth-clenching sensations overtaking his body made the fall irrelevant.

Albert's lips were finally on his own, kissing the breath out of him and banishing every thought of William from his mind.

* * *

(Requested by DaggerArcadia. Side Note: William is Billy)  
William saw the bow being drawn seconds before the arrow whistled through the air, and lunged at the Princess before it hit her. His bare arm blocked the shot, the arrow halting mere millimetres away from Rebecca's nose. Her eyes widened at the sight of it, the sharp tang of fresh blood strong in the air and the slender piece of wood punctured perfectly through his arm.

Immediately, Rebecca ignored the shouts and bells going off as the assassin was pursued by castle guards, pulling William along by his uninjured arm as he shielded her with the rest of his body. They plowed through the throngs of people, the bodies parting at the sight of the Princess.

Taking William straight to her chambers, Rebecca pushed him down onto the bed and refused to let him up.

"Princess, I'm fine..."

"No, you're not! And I told you several times not to call me that. Now don't say another word!" She commanded, whirling around the room as she gathered medical supplies.

Cutting William opened his mouth again, Rebecca took his arm in her hands and examined the arrow embedded in the limb. The flesh around the area was red and bloodied, but there didn't seem to be any fractures in the wood. There would be no splinters when she removed it.

"I'm going to remove the arrow, William. I want you to bite something while I do this." Looking pointedly at William's face, she waited for him to gather part of her quilt and lay it between his teeth, rolling his eyes at her professionalism. "Alright, on the count of three, William. One-"

She ripped the arrow clean out, and William was suddenly glad his scream was muffled by the blanket.

* * *

Chris' eyes nearly bugged out when Wesker held out the tall can of whipped cream suggestively, a completely serious look on the blond's face as he backed Chris toward the bed. Wesker had never shown any interest in sweets, or any kind of sugar, in the time Chris had spent with him, so what made him suddenly buy whipped cream?

"Because I felt like it." Wesker said, discarding the can only to unbutton Chris' shirt before picking it back up. Chris remained motionless below him, but Wesker remedied that when he shook the can and sprayed the white foam onto Chris' left nipple.

"Wesker, what the hell are you- _shit!_" Chris choked on his spit as Wesker's mouth descended to lap up the cream and bit down on his nipple. His hand came up to clutch Wesker's hair tightly as he soothed the bite with his tongue, another squirt of whipped cream being applied to repeat the process.

Chris' hips bucked up, but Wesker raised his body out of reach and grabbed his chin, prying it open so he could spray whipped cream onto his tongue.

While Chris would have complained, Wesker stole every protest he had when he licked inside his mouth and pressed his thumbs hard into both of his nipples.


	16. 16

I should be shot for updating this late. Seriously. I'M SO SORRY YOU GUYS. I haven't even been busy, and I really don't have an excuse that makes up for it. I've just been really distracted, and such. I do hope that you all like this chapter, though. There's quite a few extra ficlets for you guys to read!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Not a damn thing. I do this for fun, not profit. All creative rights to the characters and storyline belong to their original creators. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

"I missed you."

"Really, now?"

"No, not really." Grinning, Chris leaned down to kiss the tip of Wesker's nose, rocking his hips when he sat back to grip Wesker's thighs. "I just missed this."

Wesker hummed, trailing his fingers up Chris' thigh and making him shiver. "Somehow I doubt that."

Chris made a face and ran his hands up Wesker's chest as he moved, rubbing the smooth skin firmly to relieve any stubborn congestion from him. "Okay, so I was lying. What do you plan on doing about it?"

Unable to thrust up with Chris weighing down on his legs and pelvis, Wesker reached forward to stroke the weeping erection in front of him, one hand travelling to brush against his balls. It made Chris squirm and choke on his words, but Chris retaliated by tightening his muscles and clenching down on the blond.

Wesker opened his mouth to say something, but Chris jerked his hips and pressed down hard, trapping Wesker's hands and banishing every thought from his mind with a kiss.

* * *

Wesker could see the fatigue in his face when he looked in the mirror, showing even when he tried his best to hide it, but his eyes bothered him the most. He envied the people around them for their eyes, how vibrant and full of life they were, while his own were like ice, hollow and completely emotionless. Looking into them was like looking into the eyes of a corpse.

He was amazed that Chris saw what he saw, shared his view while no one else had, and was grateful when Chris propped up a mirror facing the bed and didn't say a word as he undressed them both. Chris was usually so optimistic about everything, so it was odd for him to be so calm.

Wesker was laid out on his stomach, surprisingly complacent as Chris prepared him gently, easing him up on his knees before pressing inside with utmost care. He refused to look directly in the mirror before him, instead letting his eyes wander to the spots their bodies connected.

Every ebb and flow of the motions of his body matched Chris', a strange sort of harmony building up where there usually wasn't. Wesker, though he preferred dominating Chris, observed Chris' muscles as they flexed and stretched under his skin, fascinated himself with the many contrasts between them.

Chris kissed his neck, turning Wesker's chin up and forcing him to look into his own eyes for a moment.

From just one glance, Wesker could tell that something was different with his eyes, and he realized that they were more alive than he'd ever seen them. They were darker now, glossed over from the slow motions of Chris' hips. Chris had done something to him, something unforgivable, and Wesker needed to change it.

"Harder."

"What?"

Wesker sneered, jerking his hips backwards. "Must I repeat myself? I said _harder_."

Grunting in satisfaction, Wesker watched Chris' face contort into a frown before doing as he was told, grasping Wesker's thighs and spreading them further apart. Wesker relished the hard thrusts, the flashes of pleasure that wiped away every thought from his mind.

Raising a hand to brace against the mirror, Wesker's head dropped as he felt Chris' hand enclose his own, fingers tight as Chris drove into him harder and faster. The pressure from both of their hands cracked the mirror, splintering the surface and puncturing his palm.

The blood ran down the mirror in a single rivulet, running over his reflection's eyes. It made him deny, with every fibre of his being, that Chris and only Chris could make him come alive.

* * *

Chris thrashed against the soft rope pinning his arms to the chair, his ankles bound similarly to the legs. The man kneeling above his lap did nothing to help him, merely smirking as Chris attempted to arch into the tortuously slow movements of his hips.

Knees pressed against Chris' thighs, Wesker kept his groin a few inches from Chris' and swayed his hips, tiptoeing his fingers up the broad, tan chest as his short skirt swayed with him. He held Chris' chin up in his hand and turned it towards him, taking in the clenched jaw and flushed cheeks as Chris cracked an eye open to look at Wesker. Leaning forward a bit, Wesker pressed his tongue to the corner of Chris mouth, slipping in when Chris opened it to gasp.

When Chris bit at his tongue, Wesker tapped his cheek lightly in admonishment, but relaxed his legs and allowed himself to sit down on Chris' thighs. Chris offered his own tongue as an apology, however, and Wesker put his full weight on Chris' erection, jerking his hips in a slow rhythm that had Chris panting within seconds. The feel of the satin and the hot flesh just underneath made Chris' eyes sting, frustrated without the ability to move against it and and do nothing but rut.

Chris wanted Wesker underneath him, unlikely but not impossible to achieve. He wanted to hold those slim hips, push the black skirt up as he ground down and watch as his usually stoic face twisted with pleasure. He wanted to kiss the breath out of him, wanted to run his hands over every inch of warm, pale skin until he met the rough fabric of the corset as he pushed inside and ripped cries from Wesker's throat.

He wanted everything, and yet still Wesker denied him.

"_Please._" He hissed, whimpering when Wesker stroked his fingers down the lines of his muscles, mimicking the trace on himself and delighting in Chris' pleading look. "Wesker, _please._"

Finally taking pity on the bound man, Wesker reached back and lifted his skirt out of the way to pull down the panties. He licked at Chris' mouth again as he sank down, swallowing the desperate cry that escaped the brunet as he took him in inch by inch.

The chair rocked back on its legs as Wesker made the first hard thrust of many, surprisingly steady as the blond undulated to a beat unheard by anyone except them.

* * *

(Vamp!Alts Inspired by Lastglances)  
Albert knew he'd come back, knew his charge wouldn't stray away for too long. Christopher's new instincts overrode his old ones, made him lose his morals in favour of survival.

When Christopher came into view, Albert immediately noticed his uneven gait, a slight wobble in every step, like he couldn't decide if he should walk or run. The nearer he got, the more Albert saw the agitated, confused look in his eyes and the clenching of his jaw.

Christopher came to stand in front of him and opened his mouth, but Albert shook his head. "Come. We'll get you something."

The town was quiet at this time of night, and it was with ease that Albert struck down their first victim, a middle aged man, somewhat large in girth, but well groomed and easy to kill. Albert made his death quick and easy with a slit to the throat, seeing as the man had nearly no neck to speak of, but what mattered was the blood flowing from the gaping wound.

Christopher looked both disgusted and hungry as Albert leaned down to lap up a decent amount before beckoning the brunet forward. When Christopher hesitantly stepped closer, Albert nabbed his chin and forced his jaws to separate, kissing him full on the mouth before letting the blood run from his mouth to Christopher's.

His charge's reaction was immediate. Christopher's eyes widened in shock and he pitched forward to grab at Albert's coat, the taste of fresh human blood overwhelming his senses. It wasn't his first taste, having had to ingest it the day he was 'born', but having gone nearly a month without it was almost unbearable. He relished the warm rush of liquid that came from Albert, whimpering like a pathetic pup when his sire pulled away to gather more.

Albert hoped his way of training his charge to associate blood with kisses would work, make Christopher grow to like it more. His doubts left him when he withheld his mouthful and Christopher, instead of snapping out of his craze, reached to bring him back for more, licking across Albert's teeth to gain access to what he wanted. Christopher felt Albert's tongue snake its way in with the blood and lapped up the drops clinging to it with his own.

Albert drew out the temptation of food as long as he could, holding the corpse away from Christopher, in order to admire the way Christopher's eyelids fluttered over his dark eyes and how his mouth hung open as greedily drank every last drop.

One line of red dribbled down Christopher's chin and Albert couldn't resist dragging his tongue along it before he fed him another mouthful.

* * *

(Vamp!Alts Inspired by Lastglances)  
The room permeated with the smell of blood, Christopher noted, walking toward the bed where his sire knelt. A body lay underneath him, stark white against the black sheets of their bed and matching Albert's own light skin completely. As he neared, Christopher could see the mess Albert had made of the corpse, soaking the bed with blood, and smirked when the blond turned his head up to look at him.

Albert's eyes were glazed over, like he hadn't had a meal for some time, but the way they dilated indicated that he'd accidentally drank from a drug user. The body didn't look like one who was under the influence often, and that was probably what threw Albert off in the first place. Now he was paying for his mistake with incoherence.

"Albert, are you alright?" Christopher asked, amused by the way Albert blinked languidly at him before sitting up a little. His mouth was open slightly, enough that the needle-sharp teeth that replaced his canines were visible, and Christopher darted his tongue out to lick at his suddenly dry lips at the sight.

Drunkenly, Albert tried to make his way toward Christopher and only managed to crawl a foot before collapsing, his charge's hands swooping to catch him before he hit the soaked sheets. He giggled as Christopher held him up, clutching a bloodied hand to his cheek as he brushed his lips against the maker marks on the younger man's neck.

Christopher shuddered and laid Albert back on the foot of the bed, the only dry place left. He knew Albert had to fuck the drugs out of his system, and gave him exactly that.

The smell of blood fed his arousal, but Albert's delirious moans as Christopher peeled his clothes away drove him mad with want. Streaks of blood patterned Albert's body, dark where they had lined up with the creases in his shirt and pants. He tossed them into the laundry hamper and cleaned the lines with his tongue before Albert tugged insistently on his hair. He wanted a kiss, and when Christopher obliged him, it was sloppy and messy and all kinds of perfect.

Pressing into the relative warmth of Albert's lean body, Christopher set a hard, fast pace as he nipped along Albert's neck. Albert tried the same, but could barely hold still with how rough his charge was being. His head hung over the edge of the bed, watching as the floor got closer and closer with each thrust. Christopher hit his prostate hard and it shocked him into awareness. It was enough that he found his maker marks again on Christopher and re-punctured them, earning a screech and several thrusts that sent him over the metaphorical edge and into the literal bedpost.

Christopher hissed as Albert's tightening body brought him to his own release, sagging against his form and squashing Albert between the bedpost, the mattress, and his charge. He winced when Albert nibbled on his ear, nicking the cartilage and drawing a small bead of blood that was quickly caught by a tongue.

"We'll be going out to Ikea tomorrow. I'm afraid I may have gotten carried away on my high."

"No, really, Albert?"

* * *

(Vamp!Alts Inspired by Lastglances)  
Albert frowned at Christopher's lack of enthusiasm when presented with the sight of Albert's dick, leaning back on one hand as his mate stared at it blankly.

"Well?" He asked, gesturing to the task at hand, and raised an eyebrow at Christopher when he looked up. "Are you going to do this, or will I be forced to take care of it by other means?"

Gulping, Christopher nodded and reached out to touch the length in front of his face inquisitively.

Touching another man this intimately was no different from touching himself, Christopher deduced, noting the soft, pliable skin that was so familiar to his own. Albert twitched when he took the base between his fingers and pulled gently, but abandoned the action when Albert growled impatiently.

Shifting closer, Christopher got comfortable between Albert's spread legs, taking a deep breath out of habit before licking the tip of Albert's cock.

It was a strange taste, though one he could get used to quickly. He knew enough to keep his lips tucked under his teeth to prevent a bite, and took the head into his mouth. The more he took in, the more semi-clear fluid dripped onto his tongue from the length.

Christopher made it halfway before he started to pull back, but Albert's hand shot out to grab his hair and prevent him from moving. His sire looked flushed, and it spurred him to continue. He remembered having a gag reflex at some point during his living years, but obviously he didn't have one now. Sinking down, Christopher took every inch one at a time, as fast as he could manage. The feeling of having his throat expand with Albert's girth was odd, to say the least, and he had to swallow a few times to allow it further.

Finally, his nose touched the small blond hairs and pale skin of Albert's pelvis, and he stayed there for a moment before withdrawing. On his way back up, however, Christopher's lip slipped from its place over his teeth and he ended up dragging a fang along Albert's sensitive length before he could stop.

Albert's choked cry put him on high alert, but he relaxed when the blond whispered for him to do it again. Brows furrowing in concentration, Christopher did as he was told and once again nicked the foreskin of his sire, wrapping his tongue around to lick the blood that welled up. Albert jerked into his mouth suddenly, and then Christopher couldn't even move on his own when his sire brought his head down all the way.

Clenching his fingers into Albert's thighs, Christopher moaned while Albert fucked his mouth hard. The vibrations send a shudder through his sire, and he felt warm release coat his throat a moment later. Albert pulled out abruptly and Christopher choked as his length dragged along his tongue, leaving a slick white trail behind it.

Some of the white caught on his bottom lip, but when Christopher raised a hand to swipe it away, Albert yanked him upwards by the shoulders and licked it clean, reaching down to bring Christopher off, as well.

* * *

(Requested by Lastglances)  
Albert loved to watch Christopher move, and it didn't matter if they were in the bedroom or the battlefield, so long as he was visible.

Right now, Christopher straddled him like when he sat backwards in a chair, heels digging into the stiff mattress beneath them and supporting most of his weight. Albert wasn't allowed to touch Christopher while the brunet was fucking himself on Albert's cock, but the blond certainly wasn't complaining.

He took his time observing every minute detail of Christopher's body. The skin-tight suit was unzipped completely, bunched up around his waist and revealing the expanse of tan flesh underneath, and the gloves had been left on. Albert's eyes travelled across Christopher's chest, watching as a bead of sweat made its way down from his collar. He could see it roll over the curve of his pectoral, down to his nipple, and he felt Christopher shudder both inside and out as it passed. Slowly, it drifted downward over his abdominals, and Albert watched as it dropped behind the suit and went beyond his field of vision.

Breaking his gaze when Christopher shifted, Albert furrowed his brows as the tight heat around his cock disappeared. Christopher flopped onto the tiny mattress beside him and laid on his back. Albert was about to demand that he get back to his previous task already when Christopher spread his legs wide and reached down with his right hand, effectively silencing any complaints when his clothed middle finger wormed its way into the place his cock had been.

Albert pressed up close to Christopher, rolling him over so they faced each other, and let his left hand migrate to meet Christopher's. He pushed two fingers in beside Christopher's, loving the way Christopher scrunched up his face and caught his gaze. The brunet's other hand came to wrap around their cocks, jerking slowly as his bare index finger slipped in to join the other three inside.

Christopher swore he felt the ship rock as he came, and Albert agreed indefinitely.

* * *

(Requested by siberian74)  
One of Chris' personal pet peeves was being interrupted, and while he was around Wesker, that tended to happen more than he would like.

Chris' lips had been half an inch from Wesker's before the phone began to ring shrilly. They'd shared a look of mutual chagrin before Chris rolled off his lap and Wesker reached for his phone, batting Chris' hand away whenever it got too close to his groin.

After nearly an hour, Chris had all but given up on sex for the night and turned over onto his side, his back to Wesker as the other man talked.

Chris was just on the verge of sleep when the phone was finally hung up and Wesker settled back down into the bed, and Chris had to resist the urge to roll his eyes as a pale arm wound around his waist to pull him back.

"Wesker, I'm not in the mood," he grumbled, the arm he'd curled under his pillow loosening from its position. Behind him, Wesker snorted in disbelief.

"You were just a few minutes ago," Wesker reminded as he thumbed one of the sensitive nipples on Chris' chest. "Now hurry up."

Fidgeting and ignoring the warm feeling coiling in his belly, Chris turned his head to glare at Wesker. "That was an hour ago, not a few minutes."

"You fell asleep. It may have only seemed like an hour ago to you."

"But I remember..." Confused, Chris let Wesker turn him onto his other side, cut off by the fingers that pressed against his lips. He licked slowly, too tired to do much else now, and got the digits wet enough for Wesker to take them back and bring them down between his cheeks. Chris barely had enough sense to hook a leg over both of Wesker's to allow the fingers an unhindered entry, wincing only slightly as Wesker stretched him.

Chris woke up a little more when he was tugged to lay over Wesker's body, the fingers gone and his ass prodded at by a stubborn erection. It was cold and wet, and Chris didn't know when Wesker had broken out the lube. "You're lucky I'm still horny."

Raising an eyebrow, Wesker lifted Chris' hips until they sunk down on him, holding them as Chris started to move of his own accord. "And you're lucky that I didn't take you dry," he drawled, grunting as the younger man jerked his hips.

Chris decided not to argue and stayed quiet, grinding his hips down and tightening around Wesker. Thinking he wasn't going to get anything out of it except for come in his ass and a boner he knew would plague his tired body for some time, Chris' lips quirked upwards when Wesker's hand wrapped around his half-hard length and stroked it almost fondly.

It may not have worked out completely like he wanted, but Chris was satisfied with what he got.

* * *

(Requested by Chris)  
The room he was given was barren and bleak, reminding him of the barracks, but had more space than he had a use for. Krauser didn't think he would fill the room with much at all, maybe a desk for cleaning and caring for his personal artillery.

It was boring, not having the full use of his left arm. After the first ten minutes of sitting on the bed flipping his knife in his hand, contemplating on grinding the tip into the nightstand to carve holes, Krauser got up to wander the halls, restless already.

There wasn't much to them, like everything else in the building, but most of the rooms contained machinery and strange looking tubes filled with who knew what. Krauser didn't want to know, didn't care to know, and went to the only other place he'd marked down on his mental map.

Stopping at the door, Krauser heard voices inside and thought about knocking, but brushed the idea aside and pushed the door open.

A woman in red was practically sitting on the corner of the desk, a bare arm holding her weight as she talked with Wesker. The man himself was leaning back in his chair, hands folded over his stomach casually. Both looked up when Krauser entered, Wesker's brow furrowing while the woman merely smirked.

"This your new pet, Wesker?" she asked, and Krauser sneered. _What a bitch..._

Sighing, Wesker straightened up to give obligatory introductions. "Krauser, this is Ada Wong," he offered, and 'Ada' smiled before she slipped off the desk to walk around. The dress she wore swayed with her hips, seductive, predatory.

Krauser hated her already.

"That's quite a knife you have," Ada observed, and Krauser had to resist grimacing as her manicured nails brushed the hand that was still holding the knife. She paused at the door, turning to look over her shoulder. "I hope you know how to use it."

When the door closed, Krauser spat, "Bitch."

"She has her uses," Wesker said, though not without disdain of his own. "What do you want, Jack?"

Krauser sat in one of the two chairs available, leaning forward to put his elbow on the desk top. The military had taught him perfect posture, but that didn't mean he wanted to keep it all the time.

"I'm bored," he complained, "and you haven't fixed my arm yet. It's still..." Krauser searched for the word. "weak."

Wesker didn't seem to care. "A serum is being worked on as we speak. It should be ready within a few days."

"Well, that solves one problem."

"You're not a child, Jack. I'm sure you can find some way to entertain yourself," Wesker said, picking up a pile of stapled papers.

Smirking, Krauser leaned back, drumming the fingers of his right hand on the armrest. "I think I'd rather have you entertain me, instead."

Wesker's eyebrow rose over the rim of his sunglasses, and he reached up to tug them down his nose. It revealed his eyes, the curious gradient from gold to red intriguing Krauser far more than it should have. He inspected Krauser briefly before he pushed his sunglasses back into place.

"What would you do to make it worth my while?" he asked, and Krauser's smirk grew, the whites of his teeth showing.

"You'll just have to find out, then, won't you, Wesker?"

There were a few moments of silence in which neither of them moved. They exchanged looks before Wesker reached for a notepad on the desk, grabbing a pen and scribbling something down. He held out the paper expectantly and Krauser took it, examining the cursive, slightly messy writing. It was an address and time.

"Meet me there in two hours. I'll clear your testing schedule with the lab technicians, so you'll be allowed outside the facility. Don't be late," Wesker added, and with that, dismissed Krauser with a wave of his hand.

* * *

(Requested by siberian74)  
Quite possessive of the few things he owned, Wesker became rather irritable whenever they were envied or coveted. He could get over it if they were touched while he was in the same room, but there would be a noticeable absence of the person who stole something he owned.

It was at a police conference that Wesker had to once again hoard what was his from the world. His first two choices of guests were Chris and Jill, but since Jill had come down with the flu, Barry was an adequate substitute. He could keep Chris in line just as well as Jill while Wesker was in a meeting. He'd trusted Barry to keep an eye on him, then left to attend a rather long, unfortunately necessary panel for team captains.

At the end of it, Wesker was tired, bored, and in severe need of something to relieve the tension in his shoulders.

The tall, leggy brunette chatting it up with Chris did not help. Barry was nowhere in sight.

"You look like a handsome young man yourself," she said, leaning up to whisper in Chris' ear. "We could always leave, you know. My apartment's only a few blocks down, and..." She trailed off when she caught sight of Wesker striding down the long hallway, not noticing Chris looking incredibly relieved.

Stopping in front of her, Wesker recognized her as the wife of one of the higher up officers that sponsored the conference. "Don't you have a husband to get back to?"

The woman looked affronted. "Don't you have a cradle to rob, _captain_? I'm sure there's a rookie officer somewhere around here for you to kidnap."

Chris' eyes bugged out at the accusation. He opened his mouth to say something, but nearly choked on his breath at Wesker's next words.

"I was thinking about fucking your son, but unfortunately, he inherited your facial features. Vultures aren't the most attractive creatures, you know."

Balking, the woman gaped like a fish and sputtered as Chris snorted with barely-contained laughter. She managed to right herself and pointed a thin, manicured finger at Wesker.

"Don't think I won't tell my husband about this. He'll have you out of your job by tomorrow," she threatened, and with that, she turned on her heel and strode away, heels clacking against the tiled floor.

Chris watched her go. "I hope she slips."

Ignoring whatever Chris had to say for a moment, Wesker gripped him by the collar of his shirt and all but dragged him down the hall to one of the empty conference halls. He shoved Chris against the wall just inside the room, the sound echoing in the large, open space. Before Chris could protest, Wesker's mouth was on his, manipulating Chris into no more than putty.

When Wesker finally released him, Chris blinked and licked his lips unconsciously. "What was that for? Not that I'm complaining," he added, impressed and slightly wary of the way Wesker was acting.

"So you don't run off with an old cougar like her again," Wesker said, running a hand over his hair. "Where's Barry? He was supposed to be watching you."

Chris shrugged, hooking his finger around the belt loops of Wesker's pants and pulling him closer. "I ditched him to go find you. Figured you might be bored, or something." He let his arms hand over Wesker's shoulders and nearly purred when Wesker pressed him into the wall. "And apparently, I was right."

* * *

(Requested by siberian74)  
"You fucking suck," Chris muttered, cheek pressed against the car door. The windows had been rolled to let the heat out of the car. Wesker's cock in his ass did nothing to help him cool off. "You trashed my Jeep, you jerk."

"Again, Christopher? I told you that I would pay for the damages."

"You trashed it in a desert. A _desert_. What the hell is wrong with you?"

Grunting, Wesker shoved Chris harder against the door, one hand between his shoulders while the other had threaded itself in the thick, brown hair on his head. "Since you've coined us as 'fuck buddies', I believe I have every right to take you wherever I please, desert included."

Chris hissed, fingers slipping on the door. "If that's your logic, then I'm fucking you over my desk at work. During our shift."

"Fine. You'll take full responsibility. And possible psychology fees if someone happens to walk in."

Wrinkling his nose at that fact, Chris conceded, readjusting his hold and nearly burning his fingers on the door's outside surface. "Up against the wall, then. My place. I promise I won't-" Cut off by a sharp thrust, Chris took a moment to let his vision clear up, "drop you."

Wesker seemed to take it into consideration, hips slowing until they were barely moving at all. "Agreed. Though if I bruise, you'll have to compensate."

Chris didn't care anymore. Muttering an affirmative, he blocked out everything but the cock in his ass and how Wesker wasn't moving it.

"Can you get on with it?" he snapped, one hand migrating to his neglected length, and Wesker shoved into him a few more times before he was thrown into orgasm.

Chris' other hand slipped from the door, however, and hit the handle hard enough to open it, sending Chris careening into the hot, dry sand below.

"Jesus _Christ_," he screeched, scrambling up and brushing the sand from his clothes, sticky with sweat. Chris made a face and got back into the car, ignoring Wesker's amused smirk.

"You can't blame me for that," he said, tugging off the condom and disposing of it in the trash bag behind the seat.

Chris flipped Wesker off and ignored him until the tow truck finally came.

* * *

(Requested by USWeasilgirl)  
Billy was nearly in hysterics as he listened in on Chris and Rebecca's conversation. Trained as a medic, Rebecca had the (sometimes unfortunate) duty of listening to her patients' problems and working out a diagnosis.

"Well, it could be a number of things," Rebecca said, cheeks slightly flushed in embarrassment, though it wasn't nearly as bad as Chris'. "Drugs, nicotine, kidney failure... he hasn't gone into surgery recently, has he?"

Chris shook his head. "No, and it's not any of those things, either. Wesker's a bit of a health nut," he added.

"Has he been under a lot of stress? Distracted? A bit on the irritable side?"

"When is he not?"

"Okay. I won't rule out age, either." Sighing, Rebecca rubbed her temples. "There's always prostate cancer. Have you... you know...?"

"What? Oh god, not... not recently."

"I would offer to do it myself, but I'd like to keep living for another forty, fifty years," Rebecca remarked, and Chris had to laugh, despite the awkward situation. "I'll, uh... I'll draw up a diagram for you, just in case. So you know what to look for."

A loud snort interrupted them, but before Rebecca could reprimand Billy (she really had to tell him to stop snooping), Chris' phone rang. He answered, listening to whoever it was on the other end, then shot up and nearly hit the table with his knee.

"Problem solved, Beccy! Gotta go!" Giving her a pat on the shoulder and a quick thanks, Chris darted from the room, ignoring Billy's laughing form.

Rebecca leaned against the doorway. "Erectile dysfunction is no laughing matter, Billy. What if you suddenly came down with it? You wouldn't get laid for a while..."

Billy shut up.


	17. 17

So I found an interesting little tidbit on the internet. I did some research on lube a while ago, and everyone was recommending oil-based lube for sex without condoms. Now they're saying that silicone-based is recommended, and oil was unhealthy. So just... ignore every time I said oil or oil-based, and... put silicone in, or something. STUPID SEX, WHY ARE YOU SO CONFUSING?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Not a damn thing. I do this for fun, not profit. All creative rights to the characters and storyline belong to their original creators. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

(Requested by DaggerArcadia)  
"Time's up, you little bitch."

That was the last thing Rebecca heard before she felt unimaginable pain in every part of her body, radiating out from her chest. When she looked down, Rebecca could see the shredded pieces of her uniform decorating the hole in her chest, and she figured her spine had been shattered from the gun blast. There were bits of white dotting the red flesh along with her uniform, and it confirmed her suspicions.

Christopher pushed the girl to the floor and toed the hole he'd made in her back as the life left her, grinning triumphantly. He sent her partner a look that dared him to take revenge, mocked him, but Billy only stared at the crumpled heap of his partner. He didn't move when Albert nudged him, his mind completely shattered as he watched the blood pool under Rebecca's tiny body.

"We can save her, you know." Albert said, and both his partner's and Billy's heads shot up in shock. Christopher narrowed his eyes before he caught on, and chuckled, kicking Rebecca's body over and inspecting her face.

"How?" Billy whispered, breathing harshly. He'd do anything to get his partner back. "Tell me."

Albert snorted. "Not without payment. You have a secured storage room on your ship, correct?" At Billy's nod, he continued, "Good. Give Christopher your card and full access to the rest of the ship. I'll teach you how to use the cloning pods in return."

Billy weighed his choices. He could do the right thing, justly refuse to give in to Monochrome's orders and be killed for it, or he could let them do as they pleased and rob the ship so he could have his partner back, even if she hated him afterwards.

One look at Rebecca's broken body told him what to do.

"Show me the pods." Billy said, voice thick with emotion. Without looking, he tossed his keycard to Christopher and shoved the brunet out of the way to pick up his partner. She was so frail and light in his arms, her chest a grisly sight to look at.

Christopher went one way and Albert brought him to the opposite side of the room. He led Billy down an elevator and into the bowels of Rainbow's ship, having Billy direct EVE into turning on the lights. The ship questioned him about Rebecca and the unwanted visitor upstairs, but he muted it from one of the intercoms.

The pods looked unused, but Albert apparently knew what he was doing as he rewired and programmed the machines. Billy watched as one pod opened up.

"Put her in."

Placing Rebecca's body carefully inside the pod, he made sure her wrists, ankles, and neck were secured in the black clasps that rose from the floor before he stepped back out of the pod. The door closed and Billy watched as both pods filled with a viscous green fluid, Rebecca's form clearly visible through the goo.

"We'll be leaving in several hours. I suggest you stay down here. We wouldn't want to ruin that pretty face of yours." Albert stroked the smooth line of Billy's jaw before the other man jerked back, sending a hateful glare as Albert left the room.

Turning back to the cloning system, Billy pressed his forehead against the glass as he watched the lights flicker on the screen beside him, scanning her brain for memories and thoughts that wouldn't have made it through the process on their own.

His vision blurred as the time passed, and he dropped to his knees in front of Rebecca's pod, curling up into a ball as he cried silently.

She'd never forgive him.

* * *

It was pitch black outside when they finally settled down for bed, Chris curling into his usual position behind Wesker as one arm came around to pull the older man back against him. His other arm was folded underneath his pillow, out of the way so he could mold himself against Wesker's back, one of the few shows of domination he was allowed to initiate.

Chris was on the verge of sleep when the phone rang for the third time in as many hours. Whoever it was obviously had something to tell Wesker, but since his pager wasn't buzzing, he was sure nothing was wrong.

The ringing stopped after a few times. Sighing, Chris ducked his head and nosed the gel-free hair on Wesker's head gently before closing his eyes.

Five minutes later, the phone rang again.

"The fuck does this guy want?" Chris complained, hearing his voice crack from sleep.

Groaning, Wesker poked his arm out from under the covers to grab the wireless phone from its holder, frowning when he realized that it was William once again. He gave in and clicked the call button.

"What is it?"

"_Albert, I've been calling but you haven't answered. Have you been busy?_" William's voice echoed over the phone, sounding terribly excited about something.

"You could say that." Shifting slightly when Chris' hand moved from its previous spot on his side to wander over to brush his chest, Wesker turned his attention back to William halfheartedly.

"_Anyways, what I've been meaning to tell you is that I've finally made some progress with G, and you'll be pleased to know that-_"

"William, you know that's not my area of expertise. Call your assistant." Listening to William's indignant sputtering on the end of the line, Wesker hung up and put the phone back into its holder. He waited for a few seconds before the phone started to ring again, then reached down behind the nightstand to yank the cord out of the wall.

With the phone silenced, Wesker turned over to face Chris and let the younger man run his hands over his pale skin, debating on whether they should go another round or not.

His pager buzzed on the headboard, and Wesker made his decision when he flung the thing through the door to the living room and rolled on top of Chris.

* * *

(Requested by DaggerArcadia)  
He intrigued her. Always had, ever since she was a little girl. To Rebecca, he was always this constant movement, this newness to her somewhat monotonous life. He taught her to do all the things the girls at the Junior School would shriek at, like dig up centiworms, climb the spiked branches of a monkey tail tree salvaged from Earth's abandoned surface, and throw anti-gravity water spheres at cars in the neighbourhood.

He was her best friend. And she still couldn't bring herself to hate him, not fully.

She remembered the time he'd stolen something from one of the electronic shops, fooling the machine into thinking his card was real. He made her stand around on watch as he hacked the machine, and she did so nervously. The thought that he was seven years older didn't really comfort her like it should have. When the machine spat out whatever he was stealing, he'd grabbed her hand and ran. They ran until her little legs could carry her no more, and he busied himself with the small plasma knife as she sat down to catch her breath.

"That... that wasn't nice of you."

"So what?" He'd said, turning his nose up at the thought of being nice. "On the streets, you gotta learn how to get your way." He'd been fifteen, then, and she only seven, yet they both had such different views on the world.

Rebecca thought the world and the universe were beautiful things, never thinking of evil, but he thought of them as cruel places, ones that would stab you in the back if you didn't stab them first.

She returned the knife the next day, having pilfered it from his pocket.

He took her first kiss when she turned thirteen, just a light peck, and then immediately regretted it when she told him she'd been accepted into the Galaxy Police Training Academy. He told her it was a sham, and she told him it was worth a shot, just like everything else. He said it would only end in failure, and in a fit of rage not meant for a young girl, she'd shot back, "Oh, just like you?"

His face held every emotion possible linked with shock. She tried to take back what she said, that she loved him even if he didn't have a home, but he'd turned away and strode off. Rebecca didn't see him for another six years.

Rebecca was at her graduation and birthday party when the info screens along the walls flipped to a murder case. The murderer waved at the camera and let them see his face, grimy with blood and matching his stained suit. A blond man joined him, and then they left.

Her birthday cake tasted bitter and dry. Her presents weren't as exciting.

She loved Christopher Redfield once, but she wouldn't make the mistake again. The black heart to match her white one was not in Christopher, but in one of the last people she'd expected.

It took her shattered spine to realize it.

* * *

(Requested by DaggerArcadia)  
Billy found his partner on the observation deck every night, laid out flat on her back as she stared up at the dark, spotted abyss. He climbed up the ladder to lay with her one night, just to see what she did for hours at a time, and lay down beside her.

"This is what you do every night? Look at nothing?"

Rebecca smiled and shook her head, inching closer to him until she could take his arm. She lined their fingers up and pointed to a distant light, one that, when Billy looked carefully, was blinking and moving.

"I'm monitoring traffic. Or what little of it that I can see, anyway. The ship's scanners only go so far, and that tiny little dot is out of range."

"Oh."

Giggling, Rebecca let Billy's hand go in favour of rolling on top of him, her light weight nothing she knew he couldn't handle. His arms came up to wrap around her waist, fingers tickling the backs of her thighs.

"So, if there's so little traffic, why do you keep looking?" Billy asked, and she shrugged, resting her chin on his chest as her hands ran through his slicked back hair.

"I dunno," She said, playing with a stray strand of hair, "Mostly out of habit from the Academy. We sat and watched traffic all day, and pulled some ships over if we thought they were suspicious."

Billy hummed in acknowledgement. "So if you're not doing it because you have to..." he started, boosting Rebecca further up his body until they rubbed noses, "Why don't we do something a little more interesting?"

Rolling her eyes at the innuendo and the obvious erection poking her leg, Rebecca sunk her head down that last centimetre to kiss him. "You read my mind, Billy." She purred, then got up suddenly and disappeared down the ladder with Billy hot on her heels.

* * *

The wall was cool against his chest, feeling colder when he arched into Chris' ministrations and his nipples grazed the surface. He breathed harshly, angry at Chris for getting him into this position, but turned on all the same.

Wesker tried to stay still, but Chris and his mouth were making it almost impossible to achieve. Chris' fingers trailed over the swell of his buttocks as he watched the skin prickle with goosebumps, following his fingers with his tongue. The blond had to suppress a shudder when Chris squeezed one cheek under the scrap of his underwear, the other side completely uncovered for his exploration.

One particularly hard bite from Chris made Wesker jolt upwards, unused and uncaring toward the teeth biting into his rear. Soothing the bite with his tongue, Chris admired the mark he left behind, running his thumb over the imprint of his teeth.

Wesker pressed his forehead against his arm as Chris nipped at his tailbone, unable to stop his hips from moving back into the action. His underwear was pulled down his thighs and pooled around his feet.

Laving the skin under his mouth, Chris made his way towards Wesker's crinkled entrance, ignoring the warning growl from the blond. He didn't press in, though, merely lapping over the outside and the area around it. Wesker was particularly sensitive when he ran the flat of his tongue over the tight entrance, letting out a broken hiss and clenching his fingers.

Chris climbed his way back up after one last lick and pressed himself fully against Wesker, aligning their bodies until his length fit snugly between two pale cheeks. He thrust upwards, not entering, and the hands clawing at the wall told him to do it again.

* * *

So he knew he was dreaming. Chris knew for a fact that Wesker would never stoop so low as to crossdress in public, let alone sing, but it gave him more than enough reason to keep dreaming.

The lights in the bar and lounge were dimmed, making the walls appear dark red and velvety, and they did nothing to light up the nameless faces of the crowd. Chris ignored them just as they ignored him, his eyes fixated on the figure standing at the grand piano under the spotlight.

Wesker was obviously taking a break, a glass of water in his delicate grip as he leaned against the black surface of the piano. His other hand, gloved in black, supported some of his weight, fingers dangling off the edge. When he shifted slightly, Chris watched the fabric of the black, form-fitting dress slide along his legs and sway in the empty space between his calves.

The light from above caught the sequins gathered along the bottom of the hem and the ones that were sewn on sparsely higher up. They looked like stars being pulled into the blackness of the dress. It would have really seemed like Wesker had the universe sewn into his dress had it not been for the slit that ran up and exposed the pale expanse of his leg, hindered by the beginning of his hip.

Chris couldn't help but stand and walk towards his lover, stepping up onto the platform as the crowd disappeared from his dream. Wesker smiled, sultry and seductive, and it made Chris swallow hard as Wesker put the glass down and dragged his fingers along the edge of the piano.

Gathering Wesker into his arms, Chris nosed the skin behind his ear and breathed in the heady scent of Wesker's cologne, hands going down Wesker's sides. He was met with the slit cut into the leg and his thumbs automatically dug under the fabric to encounter skin.

As Chris pushed the blond against the piano, kissing his neck slowly while Wesker leaned his head back, he noted the flesh of his thigh was completely hairless, the fine hairs he'd barely felt before suddenly gone under his touch, shaved away. The thighs came around his hips as he lifted Wesker onto the surface of the piano, warm and firm and deliciously smooth. They made Chris wish they were in bed, clothes discarded elsewhere, so he could properly worship such perfection.

He also wished for his dream to be reality, and stayed asleep a while longer.

* * *

"Come on, Beccy, I won't bite."

Rebecca narrows her eyes at Christopher. Her brain tells her this is wrong, that Christopher's chaste kisses mean nothing, but her heart tells her to go with him, see what he wants. They war inside her until Rebecca decides.

She lowers her gun, and Christopher lowers his hands. "Show me."

Christopher's face lights up and he nods, guiding Rebecca down a hallway in ADAM's interior. She makes sure he stays in front and that his hands are at his sides.

"Hey," He says, "about this whole thing..."

"Shut up." Rebecca may have been following her heart, but she takes advice from her brain. "Just keep walking."

Christopher shrugs and they continue the rest of the walk in silence.

Finally, they come to a large, dark room. Their footsteps echo, so Rebecca knows it's empty. Christopher leaves her there at the entrance when the door closes to fiddle with the lone, lit up console in the middle of the room.

"Christopher, what is-" The floor glows beneath her, and Rebecca barely has time to gasp before a forcefield comes up and traps her in a cylinder of blue light. "_You tricked me!_" She screams, tears burning in her eyes. Christopher turns around to smile widely at her.

It's full of deception and lies.


	18. 18

Sorry about the wait again, guys. I have no excuses that would be good enough for you all. And I'm also sad to say that this is the last chapter of Forthwith. It's not that I've stopped writing, (can't get rid of me that easily. :D) but Fanfiction's being a royal pain in the butt with its 'updates' that seem to be doing more harm than good. I still can't see reviews in my email, too, and several other reasons. So I'm only going to be posting things like oneshots and long stories (haha, long stories... like I'm ever going to get those done...) on Fanfiction, while all my drabbles/ficlets/pretty much everything I write will be going on Tumblr and Livejournal. So stop by there sometime, if you like my writing! And I appreciate every single hit and visitor and favourite and review! I love ALL of you!

* * *

Wesker's warm against her back, so very warm while she dozes, but his hands are even warmer as they explore Jill's body slowly. He takes his time perusing her body, relishing one of the few times they had alone together. The RPD kept them busy with paperwork and Chris seemed keen on being their best friend and biggest problem.

She's practically asleep in his arms, but Jill responds to each touch all the same. His fingers would stroke down the front of her chest lightly and she would shift towards them, hum when they migrated back up her sides.

Wesker runs his fingertips down her back next, and he has to admit that it's his favourite part of Jill's body. She's a strong, lean woman, and it shows in the line her spine makes. He curves his touches according to the way Jill sleeps, slightly curled inward to keep herself warm. It reminds him of a bridge, but Jill is more smooth and supple than any worn down piece of stone and wood.

When he gets to the soft swell of her rear, Wesker fits his hand along it to explore, dipping his fingers between her thighs and eliciting a small gasp. He smirks when Jill's hand comes around to play with his hip before she finds what she's looking for, and loves that Jill's a morning person.

* * *

(requested by DaggerArcadia and her friend)  
The castle was nearly silent as Leon explored, Blacktail raised and at the ready at all times. Spotting down the hallway, Leon took each step with caution, avoiding any tiles that looked out of place or stuck out even a little bit. It was unnerving, to say the least, but Leon was getting sick of all the traps he had to avoid. He wanted something to keep him busy, even though he wasn't complaining about the lack of danger.

When he reached the door at the end, Leon readied himself before he pushed the door open, peeking through the gap. Nothing in his immediate sight, Leon double checked the ceiling before he slipped inside.

Unable to see very well in the poor lighting, Leon fumbled for his flashlight when the click of a gun made him stand ramrod straight. His own gun was pointed upward as he held his arms up in surrender.

"Don't move." The voice was low, smooth, and decidedly male. Leon didn't recognize the voice, but the man obviously knew him. "I've heard a lot about you, Kennedy."

"Who are you?"

The voice chuckled, and Leon felt a shudder run through his spine. "If you must know, I'm an old acquaintance of Chris Redfield's. I believe you spoke to him once over the phone."

Leon's eyebrows furrowed, and he grunted when the gun dug into his spine suddenly. "Albert Wesker." He'd heard Chris speak the name, just once, but it had come with a warning: under any means necessary, he should not approach this man. Leon idly wondered if this could be considered as him approaching Wesker, but his thoughts were interrupted when the other man led him to what felt like a table.

"Bend over."

Dropping his gun, Leon pushed it away before he did as Wesker said. "Why are you doing this?"

Wesker chuckled darkly and dragged the tip of his gun down his back until it reached the waist of his pants. Shivering, Leon felt the gun catch before it was taken away. A metallic clinking rang in his ears, and Leon found his hands snatched up and handcuffed together.

"You remind me of Chris. Stubborn, unwilling to work with others… The same physique, though you may be a little leaner." A sharp nip was delivered to the shell of his ear, and Leon jerked reflexively. "Feisty, too. Chris was the same way, always giving me a challenge. Of course, he liked it when I overpowered him, liked taking it forcibly."

"You're avoiding the question." Leon growled, biting his tongue when Wesker's hands, wrapped in skin-warmed leather gloves, unsnapped and unzipped his fly so he could slip them into the thin fabric his boxers provided.

Dragging his fingertips along the flaccid length he found, Wesker's grin spread wider, though Leon couldn't see it. "I want you to send a message to Christopher."

Suddenly, Leon's pants and underwear were gone, and something slick was trailing down his tailbone and moving lower, prodding the tender ring of muscle. He realized it was a finger, lubricated in who knew what, and groaned when it sunk deep into him. Leon thrashed against the weight of Wesker's body on his back, stopping only when the hand around him squeezed hard enough to force a whimper from his mouth.

"You learn quickly." Wesker noted. "If only Chris could have done that."

Leon hissed when the finger in his ass was removed, and he wasn't given the opportunity to have a second before he was stretched open by what he could only assume was Wesker's length. It was unnaturally hot, and Leon suspected he was infected with some type of virus, but it was hard to focus with Wesker lodged inside him.

"You're tight. I might have to remember you. Ada will be pleased. I even have an old friend of yours who'd be thrilled to see you again."

As Wesker seated himself, Leon bit his cheek to keep from yelping.

"Tell Chris that I miss him. If he doesn't come looking for me…" He delivered a hard thrust that made Leon choke on air, "Well, you'll make a decent substitute, Leon."

Leon hated that he loved the way Wesker purred his name.

* * *

(requested by Siberian74)  
One of Chris' personal pet peeves was being interrupted, and while he was around Wesker, that tended to happen more than he would like.

Chris' lips had been half an inch from Wesker's before the phone began to ring shrilly. They'd shared a look of mutual chagrin before Chris rolled off his lap and Wesker reached for his phone, batting Chris' hand away whenever it got too close to his groin.

After nearly an hour, Chris had all but given up on sex for the night and turned over onto his side, his back to Wesker as the other man talked.

Chris was just on the verge of sleep when the phone was finally hung up and Wesker settled back down into the bed, and Chris had to resist the urge to roll his eyes as a pale arm wound around his waist to pull him back.

"Wesker, I'm not in the mood," he grumbled, the arm he'd curled under his pillow loosening from its position. Behind him, Wesker snorted in disbelief.

"You were just a few minutes ago," Wesker reminded as he thumbed one of the sensitive nipples on Chris' chest. "Now hurry up."

Fidgeting and ignoring the warm feeling coiling in his belly, Chris turned his head to glare at Wesker. "That was an hour ago, not a few minutes."

"You fell asleep. It may have only seemed like an hour ago to you."

"But I remember..." Confused, Chris let Wesker turn him onto his other side, cut off by the fingers that pressed against his lips. He licked slowly, too tired to do much else now, and got the digits wet enough for Wesker to take them back and bring them down between his cheeks. Chris barely had enough sense to hook a leg over both of Wesker's to allow the fingers an unhindered entry, wincing only slightly as Wesker stretched him.

Chris woke up a little more when he was tugged to lay over Wesker's body, the fingers gone and his ass prodded at by a stubborn erection. It was cold and wet, and Chris didn't know when Wesker had broken out the lube. "You're lucky I'm still horny."

Raising an eyebrow, Wesker lifted Chris' hips until they sunk down on him, holding them as Chris started to move of his own accord. "And you're lucky that I didn't take you dry," he drawled, grunting as the younger man jerked his hips.

Chris decided not to argue and stayed quiet, grinding his hips down and tightening around Wesker. Thinking he wasn't going to get anything out of it except for come in his ass and a boner he knew would plague his tired body for some time, Chris' lips quirked upwards when Wesker's hand wrapped around his half-hard length and stroked it almost fondly.

It may not have worked out completely like he wanted, but Chris was satisfied with what he got.

* * *

(For Spacefragments)  
After several minutes of shifting, adjusting, and bickering about whose arm went where, Chris finally found himself with Wesker's legs hanging comfortably in the bends of his arms as he rocked into him. He wouldn't say so aloud, but he knew that Wesker had a fear of falling, and it was because of it that his fingers were clenched so tightly around Chris' shoulders.

Chris would have teased him about it, but he liked his penis right where it was, thank you.

"See? This isn't so bad, right? You give me way too little credit sometimes, Wesker."

Wrinkling his nose, Wesker huffed when Chris backed his words with a firm thrust. "I'm only doing this because of the Jeep."

"I know, I know," Chris muttered, running his lips up Wesker's neck. If he had to pick a favourite place on Wesker, it would always be his neck.

Wesker didn't like being touched in public, sticking to handshakes and firm pats on the back or shoulder, and the limited contact had proven to be beneficial in bed, particularly when it was Chris putting his hands all over him. He demonstrated and proved his point by suckling a spot on Wesker's neck and letting his stubble scratch at his skin, feeling Wesker's answering shudder and involuntary buck.

When Wesker nipped at his ear, one of his usual ways of telling Chris to either speed up or 'get the hell out of his ass', Chris hoisted him higher and upped the pace.

Pressing Wesker against the wall, Chris' sides heaved with the force he was exerting and holding nearly two hundred pounds of muscle and bone for as long as he was. A bead of sweat rolled down his back, tracing his spine and catching on the vertebrae that stuck out faintly.

Wesker tightened around him, nearing release that seemed like it was happening too soon, and it made Chris' knees wobble dangerously. The pale fingers that had been somewhat relaxed quickly dug into the flesh of his collar when Chris' grip slackened and Wesker dropped a few inches too many. Shoving Wesker against the wall just in case they really did give out, Chris panted into his neck and let Wesker tip his head up for a messy kiss just as he came.

Stars exploded behind Chris' eyelids as his hips canted forward, lowering himself and Wesker to the floor slowly. Absently, he had enough sense to jerk Wesker to completion and felt warmth flood his palm seconds before a hand cuffed his ear.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?" Chris yelped, rubbing his ear and yanking his hand away when he realized it was the one with come on it.

"You almost dropped me, you idiot."

Chris opened his mouth to defend his case, but Wesker's tongue lapping at the shell of his ear made every thought in his head vanish.

* * *

The guilt had been eating at him all day. Chris had holed himself up in his apartment after work, dreading the inevitable next day when he would find out if he was suspended or not. He honestly didn't mean to dislocate Forest's shoulder, even if the older man did kind of deserve it. Chris couldn't help it if he got angry and violent when he was already having a terrible week, or when someone called Claire a 'hot piece of ass'. The board would give his captain their verdict on his suspension, something that Chris wanted to avoid altogether.

Nursing his third beer of the night, Chris grumbled into his pillow when someone at his door knocked sharply. He didn't answer at first, too frustrated over his guilt for all but attacking Forest, but when the knocks came a second time, and then a third, Chris punched his pillow and stalked over to the front door, opening it without bothering to look through the peep hole.

Chris felt shock and then panic at the sight of Wesker at his door, the blond looking his usual stoic self as he stood in the hallway with a plastic bag in his hand.

"Great," Chris groaned, making a face. "Have you come to tell me I'm suspended?"

"No."

"So I'm fired?"

Pushing past Chris, Wesker set the bag down on the coffee table, not bothering to take his coat off. He wouldn't be staying long anyway. "I haven't been informed of the outcome as of yet. You'll find out tomorrow."

Chris's face went blank. "Why are you even here, then?"

Wesker adjusted his sunglasses, taking them off to inspect the lenses.

"To comfort you and tell you that nothing is your fault," he deadpanned, putting them back on and standing. "But since you obviously don't want my presence here, I'll just leave."

Standing there, mouth agape, Chris stared at his captain as the man went through the still-open door and disappeared down the hallway. He made an unhappy noise of some sort and closed the door, turning to the abandoned bag on the table.

Curiosity got the better of Chris and he reached into the bag, pulling out a Styrofoam container. He popped the lid off and blinked at what was inside, shocked at what he saw.

A slice of lemon meringue pie lay down flat in the container, a clear, plastic fork resting beside it. When he lifted the pie up with the fork, he saw that the slice was practically paper thin. Chris didn't care.

Wesker had shared his precious pie with him, size be damned.

Folding the pie slice over itself a few times, Chris managed to make the whole thing fit on the end of the fork and ate it, relishing the sweet and sour taste on his tongue. His guilt over Forest vanished, and thoughts of his suspension became trivial.

Wesker may have been an antisocial jerk, but he knew how to cheer someone up.

* * *

(for Spacefragments)  
"I didn't know you liked gardening," Chris commented, his foot coming down on the shovel to scoop out a substantial pile of soil. He held it out of the way so Leon could sneak down below and place a full-grown plant inside the hole. Chris thought it was nice looking, for a flower.

Leon snorted and scooped the soil from the shovel into the areas around the plant, brushing his freshly dyed hair away from his face with his forearm. "And I didn't know you liked cooking. Guess we're both secretly housewives."

Chuckling, Chris looked around the apartment complex. While tenants weren't normally allowed to plant their own flowers, Leon had both his government agent badge and a way with words on his side. Chris thought it was a little extreme to use his authority for a couple of plants, but he had to agree with Leon about the plants currently residing in the small, rectangular garden outside. They really were terrible and half-dead.

After several plants had been put into their new and hopefully permanent homes, Leon stepped back to admire their work.

"You know, it doesn't look all that bad," he said, looking at their handiwork. It was more appealing than it had been before, that was for sure. "I mean, there's a bald gorilla in the way, but other than that..."

Chris chucked a spare flower bulb at Leon's head. "Very funny, twig." Tossing the shovel onto the lawn, Chris attempted to step out himself, only to get his pants caught in the rose bush to his right. He tugged his leg in an attempt to dislodge it, knowing that Leon would skin him alive if he just kept going and damaged the plants. He couldn't even bend over and do it himself, unless he wanted a face full of thorns.

Leon rolled his eyes. "Stuck?"

"A little."

"Need some help?"

The leg stopped moving and Chris' shoulders slumped. "Yeah."

Rolling his eyes, Leon stepped in to help, kneeling by Chris' feet and pulling at the tangled plants caught in his jeans.

"You really got yourself stuck, didn't you?" Leon asked, pulling a few burrs from the fabric, as well. Chris mumbled something incoherently above him but Leon ignored him, focusing on the job at hand.

Finally, Leon told him to give his leg a good pull and Chris did so, all but leaping out of the garden and into freedom. Leon's startled yelp, though, made him turn back.

The blond stood up and held out his hand, three of his fingers bleeding steadily.

"At least you're not stuck anymore," he said, shaking his hand to try and dispel the sting. Chris frowned and grabbed Leon's wrist when he came out of the garden, thumbing the thin trails of blood. It didn't look that bad, though he hadn't realized rose thorns could be so sharp and durable.

"Here, let me..." Digging around in the bag they'd brought out with them, Chris pulled out a bottle of water and twisted the cap off, washing off the small cuts and rubbing away the dirt near them.

Leon squirmed in his place uncomfortably. "You don't have to do that, you know. It was my own fault for not wearing gloves, and I _can_ clean my own wounds, you know."

"I know," Chris replied, brushing the tips of his fingers over the small cuts before he pulled several band-aids out of the bag. Leon made a face at the Hello Kitty pattern stamped all over them.

"Hello Kitty? Really?"

"Blame Claire."

Remembering Claire's penchant for buying cute, fluffy charms and the like, it was no surprise that she bought medical supplies with cutesy designs, as well.

Chris finished bandaging his fingers up and let go of Leon's hand. The blond stared at it expectantly.

"What?"

"You're not going to kiss it better, too?"

Leon's face was innocent at first glance, but Chris could see the slight upturn of one corner of his lips and the mischievous glint in his eyes. Smirking, Chris played along and brought Leon's hand to his mouth.

He made a show of kissing each band-aid-covered cut slowly, like it was some torturous form of foreplay. Chris even dared to dart his tongue out to lick the skin that wasn't covered by Hello Kitty, keeping the touch light and barely there at all. Leon hummed quietly and bit his bottom lip temptingly when Chris looked up at him.

An old woman spotted them as she came out of the apartment and smiled.

"Looks wonderful, boys! Keep it up!"

Leon couldn't tell if she was talking about the garden or their pseudo-foreplay, but he couldn't bring himself to care when Chris broke away to snatch up their things and tug him into the building.

They could do some real foreplay when they got to Leon's bedroom.

* * *

(for Siberian74)  
Every time Wesker came to him, Chris felt a piece of his old self break away while his new self was revealed ever so slowly.

No, it wasn't a new self. It was the drug in his system, pumped directly into his body by the thing on his chest. More than once, Chris found himself picking at the edges, digging his fingernail underneath and prying it up a millimetre or two. He did it without thinking, but the habit was soon broken when Wesker found out and shocked him with a non-lethal dose of electricity every time he caught him.

Chris had put up a fight at first, as much as his broken body would allow, but every time he tried to escape, to run as fast and as far away as he possible could, Wesker stopped him. Whether it was a harsh grab at his arms and shoulders, unrelenting grip bruising his now pale skin, or a gently brush of fingers along his forehead, mocking the illusion of a relationship they'd had, Chris would stop fighting it and become obedient.

He didn't know if it was the P30 or himself during those moments.

On the rare occasion that he dreamed, too exhausted most days from training and the delirium brought about by the P30, Chris was bombarded by memories. There were thousands of them, seemingly millions, and each one made his head spin.

Most of them were ones Chris wanted nothing more than to forget, painfully reminding him of the times when he thought his life was as perfect as it was going to get. They were almost tangible, too realistic, more like nightmares than anything.

He could recall Wesker's hands on him, cool and smooth and tempting, drawing him into a bed that would become more and more familiar to him. They'd been so different then, insistent but not forceful. They'd brought him pleasure before they ever brought him pain.

When the door to his cell opened, Chris was freed from the cuffs around his wrists, but bound by the intense glare of Wesker's eyes in the light. They weren't anything like the steely blue they used to be.

Chris used his memories as a safe haven, taking shelter in them and blocking the rest of the world out. The P30 took over, manipulating him according to Wesker's orders.

Wesker said something, undressed him, prepared him just like he used to. Chris knew it was all a lie, but couldn't help but want it to be real, if only a little.

He couldn't move himself, but he could feel everything, see everything; Wesker's fingers opening him, Wesker's short, hard thrusts, Wesker's hand running along the P30 device, then over his heart.

He wished he couldn't see the desperate look in Wesker's burning eyes before it was snuffed out.

He'd rather be dead than see it again.


End file.
